Just Waiting
by Laughing
Summary: AU, Sirius is alive. Set during the fifth year. Harry goes to save Sirius in the Department of Mysteries, and discovers his mistake too late. Someone dies, but it's not Sirius. No slash.
1. Harry's Numbness

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ or any of J. K. Rowling's ideas or characters. I am making no monetary profit from this.**

_Dedicated to BlackPotterGrl for being my beta. If it wasn't for her, you guys might be tearing your eyes out. :_

* * *

_Despite the lies that you're making  
Your love is mine for the taking  
My love is just waiting  
To turn your tears to roses _

--from Whispers in the Dark, Skillet

I was completely numb the whole way home. I can't even tell you if we used a port key, or a broom, or if we walked.

I can barely remember what happened. I know that I was wrong about the vision—they hadn't had Sirius after all. I vaguely remember something about brains and Neville dancing around…

Remus was dead. That I knew for sure. I don't remember who killed him, or why, though. I know it wasn't me, and that's about it.

Sirius was furious. I'm not completely sure why. I know some of it has to do with me—he was yelling at me earlier—but I think there's more to it then that. He was taking me back to Grimmauld Place though, and for a minute I couldn't even remember why he was doing that.

I had almost forgotten that Sirius was free, and that I lived with him now. It was still so unreal. It was what I'd always wanted, and now I had it. After everything that happened at the Triwizard Tournament, Sirius had had enough. He'd gone marching into Dumbledore's office—in broad daylight—and had demanded to be questioned under veritaserum. Dumbledore had complied, although not completely voluntarily. The gods must have been in favor of Sirius that day, because Fudge cleared him of _everything_. Or maybe Sirius had blackmail on him. Anyway, Sirius had come marching into the dormitories—scaring quite a few students in the process—and had demanded to see me. He told me that I was going to live with him—if I wanted, he'd added sheepishly. I assured him that I did, and had gone home with him that summer. I think Dumbledore took care of the Dursleys, all I'd had to do was sign a few papers.

So, here I was, at home, in Grimmauld Place. As I said, Sirius was angry. As soon as we walked through the door, he began throwing things. Somehow, the sound of a wooden bowl hitting a stone floor is reminiscent of the sound of a werewolf's body hitting the floor of the Department of Mysteries. I froze. It all started coming back…oh God…I could see his face…right before he fell…oh…he'd looked eyes with mine right before he…

I was going to be sick. Sirius didn't notice, so I ran upstairs to the bathroom.

With the heaves came the sobs, and that wasn't something I was willing to let Sirius hear just yet. I reached over and turned on the shower.

I couldn't get Remus's face out of my mind. His eyes had been wide, and his mouth had been moving soundlessly. I think he'd been asking for help.

Bellatrix Lestrange had been dueling Sirius, and she'd knocked him down with a particularly strong curse. I guess Remus had been near by, because when she'd started the incantation for the killing curse, Remus had jumped in front of his friend. He'd tried to push Bellatrix into the veil that had been behind them, but he hadn't moved quickly enough. The curse hit him square in the chest, and he fell.

I had to stop this. I took a deep breath, pushing the memories back down, and noticed that I had stopped throwing up. I peeled off my clothes, and stepped into the shower. I was still crying though, and I couldn't seem to stop. My chest hurt, and I felt like laying down. I didn't want to think anymore. But the memories wouldn't stay down. I could see Sirius bursting through the doors, anger and excitement in his eyes. All the other Order members, including Remus, had stormed in too, yelling curses. All of it was still a bit of a blur, except for Remus's death.

I could still hear Sirius throwing things. It wasn't helping. I couldn't be sure if he was angry at me, or at himself.

Oh Merlin. Oh dear, dear Merlin. This was all my fault. All of it, I was slowly realizing, was because I had fallen for the trap. I'd thought they had Sirius…but it was all a set up.

If I had just stopped to think, for a just a moment, I could have realized that it was a trap. Did Sirius know that this was all my fault? That must be why he's mad. He knows that it's because of me that his best friend is dead. He's going to hate me.

I was crying harder now. Sirius was the only one who was there for me.

I should pull myself together. This is pathetic.

_Remus is dead. Sirius hates me._

No…maybe he doesn't.

_But even then, Remus…_

I slid down against the wall of the shower until I was in a sitting position under the spray of the water. I just put my face in my hands and cried.

I wouldn't ever see Remus again. I wouldn't have someone to vent to when Sirius put a balding charm on me.

I started to smile at the memory, but then felt worse for doing so.

_I'm sorry…Remus…oh God, I'm sorry._

And then there was Sirius…I don't think I could take it if he hates me.

_Stop thinking! _

I could hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I knew it was Sirius even though it didn't sound much like him. Sirius always walked very lightly, as if he was afraid of being caught. But these steps were steps of resignation. Sirius was dragging his feet—forcing himself to walk up the stairs.

I had expected him to go into his room, and was startled when I heard a loud rap at the door.

_Bloody—_

"Harry?"

—_Hell. _

I abruptly stopped my crying, and stuffed what I could of my emotions back down inside. Maybe if I kept the shower on he would think that I didn't hear him, and go away.

"Har? Come on, Harry. I know you're in there," he said in a hoarse voice. Maybe he'd been crying too.

* * *

_A/N: Okay. So. What do you think? This is my first HP fanfiction. I'm always been a fan of Sirius, and I think he should never have died. :  
Also, I should note that I'm American, and so some of the original spellings or a few phrases may be off. Feel free to point them out to me if you feel like it, or just ignore it.  
...I think there was another note that I wanted to make, but I can't remember it now. Oh well. Review!  
_


	2. Sirius's Fury

**Disclamer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ or any of J. K. Rowling's characters or plots, and am making no monetary profit from this. **

_I will be the one that's gonna hold you  
I will be the one that you run to  
My love is  
A burning, consuming fire _

--from Whispers in the Dark, Skillet

A bit earlier…

_What the hell, Sirius? Pull yourself together!_

I chunked another glass at the wall. The sharp sound was unsatisfying. I didn't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do. I'm not helpless, and I shouldn't feel that way.

Remus…Remus wouldn't want me to just sit here. He'd want to be avenged! That's what I would have to do. Kill Bellatrix, just as she'd killed Remus. Simple.

_What about Harry?_

I sighed. I had probably scared the kid half to death. Where _was_ Harry anyway?

I shook my head. I'd find him later. Right now, I needed a plan. I needed to find that b—

_**Harry**__. Shut up for a minute, and think about Harry! He's your responsibility now._

Damn conscience. I couldn't find Harry just yet. I was still so angry…

My hands were shaking a bit, I noticed. Running into Harry right now might not be the best idea. I'd do something I would regret.

_Something you'd regret? Maybe like murdering your cousin?_

I threw another glass at the wall. Remus couldn't get his revenge, so I'd get it for him. He'd do the same for me.

_He would take care of Harry first!_

And with my last glass, some of my anger left. That's when I realized two things—how tired I was, and that my face was wet. I don't remember crying…I never cried.

_Remus is gone. Dead._

And it was my fault. All of it. Blimey…Remus had jumped in front of _me_. If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead right now. If it wasn't for me, he'd be alive.

I closed my eyes. This wasn't happening. My best friend…first James…or maybe Peter was first…and Lily…and now Remus…they're gone…lost. I felt incredibly alone, and very small. I wanted to just curl up and hide for a few years.

_How do you think Harry has felt all his life? He'd never had anyone besides his damned aunt and uncle until he came to Hogwarts. And now he has you. And you have him._

I'm not sure how long I sat there. I know I cried.

* * *

After a while, I looked up. I remembered that it was late, and that I didn't know where my godson was. I was emotionally spent, but I wasn't done. 

I took a deep breath, and walked up the stairs. Somewhere in my mind I registered that the shower was on. I walked in the direction of the bathroom. I knocked on the door.

"Harry?" I said loudly, trying to keep my voice from breaking.

I waited for the shower to turn off, but it didn't. I heard a few bottles of shampoo or soap fall. I waited a few more seconds. No response.

"Har? Come on, Harry. I know you're in there."

There was a pause, and then the shower turned off. I could hear him sigh. Well, I didn't want to do this either. But we had to, or at least that's what the voice kept telling me.

I heard some noises, like Harry was moving around, probably trying to get dressed. I remembered that his robes were filthy with blood and who knows what else.

"Hang on a minute, I'll bring you something clean," I said.

There was no response. He probably didn't want to talk to me. He probably knew it was my fault.

I shuffled into his room, and tried to find pajamas. It seemed, however, that he had taken them all with him to Hogwarts. I was taking too long. I hurried into my room, and got out a pair of my own pajamas.

I arrived back at the bathroom, and knocked lightly on the door. Slowly, the door opened. Harry was wearing a towel, and his glasses were clouded with steam. He took off his glasses, and wiped them on the towel. He replaced them.

We were both avoiding the other's eyes. He wasn't looking at me because I was a killer, and I wasn't looking at him just in case he did look me, because I didn't want to see the accusing look that was sure to be in his eyes.

I held out the clothes. He took them, and mumbled his thanks. He turned and closed the door behind him.

I leaned against the wall to wait for him. It took him longer than I expected, but I wouldn't want to have to come out and talk to me either. When the door finally opened again, I couldn't help but smile a little. My pajamas were way too long for him—the shirt went to his mid thighs, and the pant legs covered most of his feet.

I was thankful for this small distraction from everything, but in my slightly more relaxed state, I accidentally met his eyes. I immediately glanced away, but then did a double-take. Harry had been crying. I'd never seen Harry cry before, but I guess he'd never seen me do it either. I wanted to hug him. I couldn't though, could I? I mean, I'd done it a few times over the summer, but no one had died recently because of me. But he looked so sad. And…guilty? No, Harry couldn't be looking guilty. That would be ridiculous. He hadn't done anything to feel guilty about.

"Are you—" my voice was rough and hoarse, "are you okay?"

Harry looked desperate now. He was losing control. "Yeah," he said, trying to keep his voice under control. "I'm fine."

* * *

_A/N: So, here it is. Let me know what you think. Constructve criticsm is great, reviews are wonderful, and flames are accepted.  
I have 4 more days of school, only one of which is full--today--and so I may be able to update more often. At least for awhile. _


	3. The Scent of Avada Kedavra

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ or any of J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, or ideas, and I am making no monetary profit from this. **

* * *

I will be the one that's gonna hold you  
I will be the one that you run to  
My love is a burning, consuming fire

--from Whispers in the Dark, Skillet

(Harry's POV)

Sirius was still staring at me. Probably trying to figure out how to tell me that it would be best if I moved back with the Dursleys. Thing was, I couldn't decide if it would be better that way or not. I mean, yeah, he wouldn't have to look at me if I did that, but he might do something stupid if he was all alone.

Plus, going back to the Dursleys would suck for me. But that wasn't the point.

I shivered at the thought of going back there again. I cleared my throat.

"Sirius…" my voice sounded weird, "I'm sorry."

Sirius looked confused. "For what?"

I didn't answer.

Sirius opened and closed his mouth several times. "You want to go downstairs?"

I really didn't. "I'm actually pretty tired. We'll…talk in the morning, okay?"

Sirius looked disappointed. I couldn't blame him. Here I was, not willing to take responsibility for what I'd caused, and I wouldn't even talk to him. I made myself sick.

"No," Sirius said.

I looked at him. "Uh…what?"

"No. We're not gonna talk in the morning. We have to do this now, Harry." He said it gently, but it still surprised me.

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I didn't. I followed Sirius down the stairs.

Sirius sat down at the kitchen table, so I did too.

"Look…I'm really sorry about what happened tonight. I…I saw this vision of you, and you were in danger. So we went to the Department of Mysteries to try to…save…you…" even as I said it, I realized how stupid it sounded. "Then we realized it was a trap, but it was too late. We thought we were going to die in there, but then you guys showed up. And then…well…"

"And then Remus stepped in front of me when Bellatrix was trying to kill me, and he died," Sirius said harshly.

I nodded. "I know. And I know that all of this would never have happened if I hadn't gone to the Department of Mysteries." I looked down at my hands. "He would still be alive."

Sirius didn't say anything for a moment. He was staring at me, I could feel it.

"Harry…this wasn't your fault. If anyone's, it was mine. Remus stepped in front of _me_."

"But if I had just made sure the vision was real, then you guys wouldn't have been there in the first place."

"There was no way you could have known—"

"I could have listened to the people who were telling me not to go—"

"Harry."

At this point, I'm sure Sirius was talking about the unimportance of guilt, and how it wasn't my fault, and how it was his, but I wasn't listening, so I can't be sure. Instead, I was reliving the night. Again. I remember the smells of preserving fluids in the brain tank, the acrid odor of magic mixed with burning wood, the overwhelming scent of Bellatrix's perfume. Why she needed perfume to fight, I'll never know. And then there was the sickly sweet, yet bitter, and biting aroma of _Avada Kedavra_ which I'll never be able to forget.

With each of these smells came a different feeling. The brain juices had given me caution; the x's that were burned onto the doors exhilarated me; and the perfume had given me a sick feeling in my stomach. Bellatrix nauseated me. The killing curse gave me the numb feeling that I was still fighting to overcome.

—wait a second. Did Sirius just say what I thought he'd said?

"…and that, indeed, was the first time I slept with your mother."

Bloody hell!

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Ah, there you are. Thanks for joining me, Har. I was beginning to feel neglected," Sirius said lightly, but without a smile.

"So you didn't…"

"Help your mum cheat on James? Nah. I'm also not considering suicide, if you caught that part."

I think I actually gave him a small smile. "Sorry, Sirius."

He shook his head. "No worries. But did you hear anything I just said?"

I thought back. "I heard you say my name."

Sirius sighed. "Well, I appreciate you taking the time to know I was talking to you, rather than the dozens of other people in the room, before you spaced off into your own world."

I glanced at him. He was on the verge of going into his parent lecture mode. "I…keep remembering."

Sirius nodded. "You want something to drink?"

"Sure."

Sirius moved around a bit, and produced two goblets of hot chocolate. "Can you do me a favor?" he asked as he sat down again.

I nodded.

"I really want you to listen to what I'm about to say. Because I'm not just making it up—it's important."

Well, seeing as how I really _didn't_ want to go through the night's events again, I agreed.

Sirius just kind of sat there for a minute, because it's one thing to give a speech spontaneously, but quite another to repeat that speech after declaring that you will in fact, be repeating the speech. But, he took a deep breath, and began.

"Harry...I need you to understand that this wasn't your fault. Feeling guilty about it isn't going to help anything. Or anyone. And I don't mean me, either. I mean…Remus. He's not angry about what happened tonight, and he won't be mad at you for going on with your life. Do you understand?"

I looked at him, wondering if honesty would be welcomed. I was too tired to think of a lie, though, so I just went with it. "I get what you're saying…but…well, you don't seem very convinced of it." I looked away from him. "And I don't think you should be lecturing me on not feeling guilty when you're feeling it even worse."

Sirius's eyebrows shot right up. Maybe I shouldn't have been quite _that_ truthful.

"And I don't mean that, um, disrespectfully or anything. And I could be wrong, that was just the impression that I got…" I added.

Sirius stood up, and began pacing around the kitchen. "No…you're right, I guess. I do mean what I said, though. You shouldn't be feeling guilty, because it's not your fault," he said slowly

"It's not yours, either," I said quietly.

Sirius gave me a rueful smile.

"Let's just deal with you for right now, okay? You don't need to worry about me," he said.

I decided to push my luck. I shook my head. "I don't think that will work, Sirius. I think you should take care of yourself before you try to take care of me. And…I could help you."

Sirius glanced at me, and resumed his pacing. "So I can't help you feel better until I try to make myself feel better, but you can help me with that without taking care of yourself first? Something about that doesn't seem right, Har."

"Well, it doesn't seem right for you to do it for me, either."

"And that's where you're wrong." He stopped pacing for a minute, and looked at me. "As your guardian, it's my job to put you in front of myself. Trust me, parents do it all the time."

"But…"

"What? It's how things are supposed to go."

I sighed. "Fine." I was too tired to try to find a way around that. I lied my head down on the table. "Lecture away," I said, closing my eyes.

I heard his footsteps get closer, and then felt his hands on my shoulders. He began massaging the knots out of my neck and upper back.

"You're gonna make me fall asleep," I mumbled.

"That's okay," he said.

"Then why can't I go to bed?" I asked, sitting up straighter.

"Did I say you couldn't go to bed?"

"_Yes._ I told you I was tired, and couldn't we just talk in the morning, and you said no," I said indignantly.

"Oh yeah. Well, I'm sticking to that."

"So I can sleep, but I can't go to bed?"

"Just about," he said, and rubbed a little harder. "You shouldn't let yourself get so stressed out, Harry. Your back is all tangled up."

"Mmm. That feels good, though."

"Ah ha. Are you willing to bargain? I'll keep doing this, if you'll listen to me, and won't interrupt me," Sirius said.

"Sure," I said. I could sit and listen. No problem.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter gave me more problems than some of the others. That's probably why so much of it is dialouge, with very little narration. But don't worry, the next chapter will have a lot more. Also, to those of you who were concerned, I'm not going to be doing two chapters during the same time period, just different points of view very often. I just did it last time to give you a taste of both of their reactions. _

_So, review, and I'll write, and post a new chapter. It's a win-win situation.  
--oh yeah. Also, I'm leaving on Sunday for about two weeks, so don't expect much till after that. _


	4. A Wart Removing Potion?

_A/N: Sorry it took so long! _

**Disclaimer: I do not own _The Outsiders _or any of S. E. Hinton's characters, plots, or ideas and am making no monetary profit from this.**

Sirius's POV

Harry was asleep. He'd been really relaxed, and had actually talked to me a little before sleeping. The only problem now was that he was asleep in a wooden chair in the middle of my kitchen. That would do wonders for his back.

It took me a few moments to remember that I could do magic, but once I did, I levitated him to the couch in the living room. Harry took up most of it, but there was enough room for me to sit on at the end. Sighing, I buried my face in my hands.

Even after last summer, I still had no idea how to deal with things like this. If Harry was upset, do I make him talk about it, or leave him alone? Do I give him space when he asks for it, or do I stay with him anyway? I never knew when it was acceptable to hug the kid, either. I didn't want him to think that I didn't _want_ to hug him or anything, but I also didn't want to embarrass him. And it's not like I could just ask him, could I?

I wasn't getting anywhere with this. I closed my eyes and leaned back.

* * *

The next thing I knew, it was bright outside, and there was teenage boy staring at me. I lifted my head a little to look at him.

"Are you awake?" Harry asked me.

I raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm asleep. What does it look like?"

Harry shrugged. "The last few times that you sat up, you were still asleep and were mumbling things."

Well, that was embarrassing. I ran a hand through my hair, and sat up the rest of the way. "What did I say?"

Harry's face clouded over. "Er…I dunno. I couldn't really understand you."

"You sure?" I asked.

Harry met my eyes. "Yes," he said.

I knew he was lying. I could usually tell. "Please don't do that," I said quietly.

Harry's shoulders sagged a little. "Do what?"

I didn't really want to say it. It sounded so accusatory. Apparently, I wouldn't have to though, because Harry got it. He sighed. "Oh. Yeah. Er, it was no big deal, really. You were just…I think you were dreaming about last night. You were talking to…Remus."

"Oh," I said. "What time is it?"

My back hurt from the weird position I'd slept in. I pulled my legs up to sit cross-legged across from Harry as I tried to get more comfortable.

"Eight, I think. What time did I fall asleep last night?" Harry asked.

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. It was after two, I know."

Harry nodded. "Um…thanks for this," he said, gesturing at the sofa and his change of location.

"No problem."

"Well…how do you feel? Are you okay?" I asked.

Harry nodded, then shrugged. "I keep thinking about him."

"Me too," I said in a surprisingly even voice.

Harry stood up and stretched, so I got up too. I turned towards Harry and really looked at him for the first time that day. He looked…haunted, and sad. For once, I didn't think about it—I just hugged him. He hugged me back, hard, and so we stood there like that for a while. I'm not sure how long it was, but neither of us were in a hurry. I realized that I needed this just as much as he did, if not more.

We let go, and he followed me into the kitchen and sat down. He looked as tired as I felt.

"You want me to make some breakfast?" I asked.

Harry nodded. "Sure."

I took some muffins from the cabinet, set them on the counter, and put some bacon in a frying pan. Neither of us said anything for the entire time I was cooking. It wasn't until I had set his plate in front of him that Harry spoke.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah," I said, sitting down.

"What about school? Shouldn't I be back there?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. You already took your OWLS, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well then what else is there? Unless you want to go back…"

"No. I don't. I should write to Ron and Hermione, though. But I don't even know if they're okay…do you?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure they are. We can find out after breakfast."

Harry nodded and took a bite of bacon. He suddenly started coughing, and promptly spit it back out. "What _was_ that?"

"…bacon," I said.

Harry made a face. "I don't think so. Try it."

I looked at the bacon on my plate. It didn't look there was anything wrong with it. It wasn't burnt or anything, at least. With a second glance at Harry, I bit into it. I made a show of chewing and swallowing it before I even registered what it tasted like. It was…acidic, to say the least. Metallic, even. Somehow, I managed to keep it down. Harry, meanwhile, was having a laughing fit.

"Shut up," I said, throwing a piece of "bacon" at him.

He looked surprised when it hit him, and a strange look passed over his face, as if he was remembering. His eyes hardened for a moment, but then he returned to normal. He retaliated, and threw his own "bacon" back at me. I had been laughing, and I guess my mouth was open because the next thing I knew, I could taste that awful substance again. I spat it out, and glared at Harry, who was sitting there looking smugly triumphant.

"That was so childish," I said and rolled my eyes, nonchalantly walking towards him.

"Payback time," I stated, and began tickling him.

I had discovered, quite by accident, last summer that Harry was ticklish. It was rather amusing to watch him squirm around, trying not to laugh.

I felt his foot connect with my shin, and pulled back in mock horror, while keeping my hands on his shoulders. "Did you just _kick_ me?" I asked, aghast.

He grinned, "I think I did."

"Oh, it's on," I said.

Before he could realize what was happening, I grabbed him, and threw him over my shoulder. I kept a hand on his back, to make sure he didn't fall off, and began walking around the kitchen.

"Oi! Sirius! Let me down," Harry said.

I stopped. "What was that? Did someone say something?"

Harry replied by punching me repeatedly in the back. Now, in the position he was in, it was nearly impossible to hurt me by doing that. I laughed at him, and returned to my pacing. Harry was still incredibly light, especially for his age. I didn't like that, but I knew that he had been fed well at Hogwarts, so maybe he just had a high metabolism. But of course, admitting that would take something off of the list of things to hate the Dursleys for, so I wouldn't do that.

"Harry?" I said.

He answered with a loud sigh, but the effect was ruined by his continued laughter since I had resumed tickling him.

"You might as well resign yourself to your fate. But I'm all about deals. I'll let you down on one condition."

"What's that?" he asked warily.

"Tell me what I told you last night," I said. I stopped tickling, and he stopped laughing.

There was a slight pause. "You told me it wasn't my fault."

I gave a dry laugh. "That was hardly it. Come on now, you can do better than that."

"You're a scoundrel," Harry said.

"A _scoundrel_? Really? Heh. My godson just called me a _scoundrel_. Cheeky little fellow," I mused.

"Yeah, yeah. Let me down."

"Nope. Not until I know that you understood what I said last night. It was important, Har."

"Er…I dunno. You said a lot of things."

"Okay, new plan." I said, "Harry…was what happened last night your fault?"

Harry didn't say anything, and my heart sank. This wasn't a game anymore, so I let him down. He was staring at the floor.

"Har?"

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know that you said all those things, but I can't make myself believe it. But, can't we just move on?"

I sighed, and lowered myself onto the floor, leaning against the wall. "Come here, Harry," I said, motioning for him to sit next to me.

He did so, but still refused to look at me. The kid was so stubborn. I didn't know how to get it through to him that it wasn't his fault. I was just thanking my lucky stars that he didn't blame me, although he had every right to.

_That's what he thinks about you._

But I have no reason to blame him. He didn't do anything.

_He disregarded what everyone was telling him, and tried to play the hero to save you. He never thought it could be a trap. He didn't stop to think, he just did it. But now that he has time to think about it…_

He sees where his mistake was, and it's too late to take it back. But that's still no reason for it to be his fault.

"What can I do to convince you that this isn't your fault?" I asked gently.

Harry continued to stare at the ground, and didn't say anything. I placed two fingers under his chin, and lifted his head up so that it was level with mine. He was facing me, but his eyes still wouldn't meet mine.

There were tears on his face, and I knew it embarrassed him that I could see them. I cupped his chin with my hand, to pull it back towards me, and wiped my thumb against his cheeks. He didn't seem to reject the action, but it didn't seem to be helping either. After a few seconds, though, he brought his eyes up to meet mine. He had a questioning look on his face.

"Um…sorry. I, uh, saw someone do that once. I don't remember who it was…or why…but, um…"

My face was literally turning red.

"No, it's okay," he said.

Harry looked at me for a moment more, then turned away. This was the most vulnerable I had ever seen him, and I knew he knew that. I also knew that he didn't like that I was seeing him like this, but that was too bad. I silently vowed not to ever mention this though, to save some of his pride.

I gave him a half smile, even though he wasn't looking at me, and removed my hand.

Harry sighed, and rubbed his hands over his face. He leaned his head back against the wall, and looked at the ceiling. He glanced at me, then scooted away a few inches. I wasn't sure if this was because he was uncomfortable, or if he wanted space, or if he was just embarrassed. I was counting on the latter as I moved closer to him again. He didn't look up.

"We can't just move on," I said, "until you can get over the guilt. But redundantly repeating myself doesn't seem to be working, and neither does lecturing, or throwing things, or holding you upside down until you're blue. So I'm out of ideas."

Harry didn't say anything for a moment. "I think…" he began slowly, "that…I think that I…I feel like I did something wrong, I guess. Which I guess I did, by leaving school, and going to a place like the Department of Mysteries, especially when everyone told me it was a bad idea."

"Right," I said. "Would you feel better if I grounded you for that?"

Harry turned his head to look at me, then shrugged. "I don't know. I just know that if I hadn't gone there, then the Order wouldn't have come, and the prophecy wouldn't have shattered, and Bellatrix wouldn't have…tried to kill you, and she wouldn't have, uh…well, you know."

"Now we're getting somewhere. Listen, you couldn't have stopped any of that from happening. Yeah, you and your friends shouldn't have gone to the Department, but you didn't know that the Order would show up. You didn't know that it was a trap. And…you didn't know that anyone would die. You had no control over that."

Harry shrugged. "I know. Okay? I _know_."

"Okay. I just—"

"But I don't feel like that, and this isn't helping," he said angrily. "I don't know how to stop feeling like this, or how to make you stop trying to fix it. But that's the thing—you can't fix it! Because there's nothing to fix. It's just me. Everyone I know, or get close to dies. I'm actually pretty surprised that Ron and Hermione are still kicking. You better watch out too—you're likely to be next."

"Harry…" I interjected.

"What? It's true! It's true. And just sitting here, waiting for someone else to die, isn't doing anything. And fighting the Death Eaters—that's not doing anything either!"

Harry stopped his tirade for a minute to get a breath. He had been staring straight ahead through all that, but now he turned to look at me.

"Oh. Sirius…I…um, sorry." He looked like he had just now remembered that I was there.

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it." At least I knew how he felt now.

"No, I mean…I don't know."

I caught his eye, and smiled at him. "I think we need to get away."

Harry kept my gaze. "Away?"

I nodded. "Everything here is so complicated. Let's just go away. We can pretend to be Muggles. That might be fun."

"It's really not."

"Oh, come on now. Sure it is."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Fine. But you won't be allowed to touch the bacon."

I feigned sorrow. "But…why not?"

"Because you'll spill antifreeze on it or something."

"What's antifreeze?"

Harry grinned—finally—and said, "It's just a chemical that Muggles use. But it would be deadly if you ate something that had it on it. Unlike whatever you spilled on our bacon."

"I didn't spill anythi—oh. Blimey." I _had_ spilled something on the package, but I didn't think it would seep into it…

"What was it?"

"Um…well…see, we never completely cleaned out all of my mother's things from the fridge…"

"_We_ never cleaned them out? The fridge was your job," Harry pointed out.

I cleared my throat. "Minor details. But I think that I _may_ have _accidentally_ spilled some of, um, my mother's wart removing potion on the _package _of the bacon. So if you had any warts on your throat or stomach, then you should be in good shape."

I'm not sure Harry could raise his eyebrows any higher than they were just then. "W-wart remover? Seriously?"

"Um…" I gave a nervous chuckle.

And then Harry started to laugh. And then I started to laugh. It was good fun. And then we were laughing too hard to breathe, even, and it was less fun.

I eventually controlled my mirth, but Harry was still going. I was afraid that he was on the verge of hysterics, and shook his shoulder lightly.

"Harry…you getting any air there?" I asked.

Harry held up a hand and tried to slow down his breathing, which slowed down his laughter. When he could, he said, "Yeah. I'm okay. Tired."

Then he changed positions so that he was leaning on me, and his head was on my shoulder. I casually draped an arm around his shoulder.

"So…Muggle world?" I asked.

Harry snorted. "Sure."

"Okay then."


	5. Breakdowns and Knockturn Alley

**Disclaimer: I do not own _BlackPotterGrl _or any of her thoughts, characters, or ideas...just her heart. **

* * *

Sirius has this thing about lying. It freaks him out, because it reminds him of Peter. In his mind, betrayal and lies are the same thing. He told me once that lying was like the worst thing I could ever do to him, because it would remind him of how much he had trusted Peter, and how Peter had lied about being on my parents' side, and ultimately, about my parents' death. So, knowing this full well, I have no idea why I did what I just did. He hates being lied to, and he hates being lied to about being lied to, and he hates lies of omission. Sneaking out, he can handle, pranks, he only gets mad if you don't include him, yelling at him, he understands or yells back, blatantly doing the opposite of what he told you, he dislikes and may get mad, but lying…well let's just say that he'd rather I burn down the house.

It all started the day after he had proposed we take a trip to 'Muggle World'…

* * *

"Aaaaah!" I cried as cold water met my flesh. "Bloody—Sirius!"

"Good morning to you too," he replied cheerily.

I pushed my glasses on, and grabbed my alarm clock—five AM. "Oh my god," I stated as I chunked the contraption at my bloody godfather. The thing hit him in the shoulder, and I smiled in triumph.

"Harry," he admonished, "ow." He rubbed his shoulder a little.

"Good. Go away," I said, turning over in the bed.

Sirius grunted. "There's more water…"

I rolled over and glared at him. "I hate you. It's bloody five in the bloody morning."

"Congratulations. You can tell time. Now get up." Ah ha. So Sirius isn't _always_ sunny in the morning. I should annoy him some more, and maybe he'll get so grumpy that he'll go back to bed too.

"No," I said, and yawned.

"Yes, before I inflict bodily harm upon my least favorite godson," he said with a small glare.

Now that's more like it. "If it'll make you tired, then go right ahead."

"Hmmm," Sirius pondered. "As _nice_ as that sounds…and _tempting_ as it is…no…no, I musn't harm Harry…but on the other hand…"

"Oh shut up. If you're going to do something, do it. Just shut up and let me sleep already."

"Ooh, cheeky little fellow," Sirius mused. "Now, how to best _alter_ this attitude of his…more water?...no…_hot_ water?...hmm…"

I rolled my eyes, which was interesting because my eyes were closed.

"Oh, no…no," Sirius continued, "Moony wouldn't approve…"

I don't think Sirius realized what he'd said right at first, but I did. I froze, and slowly sat up and opened my eyes. Sirius was staring straight ahead, eyes wide. I watched him for a few moments, but he didn't move. I don't think he was even breathing…

"Sirius?" I asked softly.

No reply.

"Sirius? It's okay," I said, and reached out to touch his shoulder. As soon as I made physical contact though, Sirius flinched away, and moved to get off the bed. He slowly sat down in the chair across from my bed, and lowered his head into his hands.

His shoulders shook a little every few seconds, and their movement gradually increased until it was clear that he had completely broken down. I could hear him take deep breaths, trying to control himself, but they soon turned to sobs, and try as he might, he couldn't stop them.

Oddly, I had no emotions at that point in time. I'd retreated back to my numb state somewhere during the night, and still wasn't awake enough to fully absorb my godfather's grief and join him with my own like I would under any other circumstances. Not that I'd ever been under these kinds of circumstances with Sirius before, but still.

After just staring at Sirius for a full minute or two, something in my brain clicked and told me that any normal person would go and try to comfort him. Slowly, I moved towards him. Once I got to his chair though, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't sit next to him, because it was just a singe chair…kneeling in front of him was an option, but a weird one…in the end, I just continued standing there awkwardly until he looked up.

I hadn't been prepared to see him like this. My usually laughing friend was gone; my sometimes somber godfather wasn't there; and there were no traces of my occasionally stern guardian. This was a man reminiscent of the one I had first met in the Shrieking Shack, of whom I was afraid was going to kill me. Except this man wasn't angry like that one. This man was broken, though. His face was red and wet, and his eyes were bloodshot. What happened to the guy that I had thrown an alarm clock at?

The man wiped a hand over his face, but the tears weren't stopping, so it was a useless action. He held his hands out in an apologetic gesture, and opened and closed his mouth several times.

"I—s-sorry," he eventually choked out.

Wordlessly, I shook my head.

Something I had done must have reminded him of Remus again, because his eyes widened once more, and he had to cover his mouth to stop the sobs from being too loud. Seeing him doubled over in the chair and being racked with sobs, I remembered that this wasn't just some man—this was Sirius, and I needed to help him.

I kind of crouched down some and put an arm around him. It was a weird position, but it was all I could do at the moment.

After a few seconds, Sirius sat up a little and wrapped one of his arms around me, which forced me into a position that could be seen as sitting in his lap. I didn't care right then though, and Sirius certainly didn't, and I just let him hug me.

It was a long while before Sirius loosened his grip on me and looked up. He seemed to have stopped crying for the moment, so I let go too, and just sort of sat there on top of him.

Sirius didn't say anything, and I began to fidget. I'd never been in this position before, and I was all too aware of my age and size. Sirius must've sensed my uneasiness because he lightly pressed his hand into my back, signaling for me to get up. I did, and went to sit on the bed. I had expected him to follow me, but he didn't. He did get up though, he just went the other direction. He went out my door, and into the hallway. I figured that he went to blow his nose or something, but he didn't come back. I waited what felt like five minutes—I have no way of actually knowing since my alarm clock was currently in three pieces on the floor—and then got up to see where he went.

He wasn't in his room…or the living room…or the kitchen…or the loo…

"Sirius?" I called. I knew that there were several places that he could be, but we never went past the second floor of Grimmauld Place because we hadn't cleaned out past that.

I was about to give up and go to the third floor when I noticed a piece of paper on the table. Picking it up, I recognized Sirius's handwriting—well, sort of, it looked as if he had written it in a rush—and read it.

_Har—_

_I went out. I'll be back._

—_Sirius_

Well that's helpful. I sighed and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. But before I even had time to be bored, a small black owl came zooming in, carrying a letter. I untied the paper and unrolled it, fully expecting it to be from Sirius asking me to come bail him out of a Wizarding holding cell. I was wrong though, which was good, because I didn't have any money with me. No, this writing was feminine.

_Dear Harry,_

_Hi. This is Cho. I'm not exactly sure how to say this, but I'd like to see you. Now, if at all possible. I'm in Knockturn Alley. I can't say why in this letter…but I think I may be in trouble. Please come meet me…I need your help…and I can't stop thinking about you. _

_Love,_

_Cho._

My heart seriously stopped. No way could this be true. But…the handwriting…well, that definitely _looked_ like Cho's, and why would anyone who _wasn't_ Cho send me this?

Somewhere in the back of my mind was that little annoying voice asking me when I had ever seen Cho's handwriting, and why _Cho_ would send me a letter like that, but I ignored it.

Quickly, I walked to Sirius's room—_Sirius_. Oh yeah. Um…

Now here was when I came to the first crossroads of that day. Do I wait here for Sirius—like I knew I should—or do I go meet Cho and just see him when I get back?

After silencing that little voice again, I grabbed a handful of floo powder from the pot that Sirius kept by his bed, and rushed back downstairs to the fireplace.

"Knockturn Alley!" I yelled after I threw the floo powder in.

One nauseating swirl of colors and lights later, I was spit into Knockturn Alley—one of the Wizarding world's less than aesthetic features.

Now where was Cho? Glancing around me, the bad feeling in my stomach started. You know, the one that you get when you realize that you just did something really stupid. It wasn't too bad though, so I put it off as nervousness from being back in this place. My hand went to my pocket, which was when I realized not only that I didn't have my wand, but that I was still wearing only a tee shirt and pajama pants (thankfully it had been cold last night, so I had put on pants over my boxer shorts).

Self consciously, I walked down the roads, avoiding eye contact with everyone while trying to look for Cho. With every step, I was realizing how bad of an idea this was, but the thought of Cho being here prevented me from turning back. Now I'm not sure if this was out of concern for her, or just my testosterone acting up, but whatever it was, it kept me forging on.

"'Allo boy! Do ye fancy an 'ice 'ead on a stick for ye mum?" an old hag shouted at me, holding up a shrunken head that was impaled by a short stick.

"Ah…n-no thanks," I stammered as the bad feeling in my stomach grew.

I took a few deep breaths as I walked away, trying not to freak out. _Focus_, I told myself. Just focus on why you're here, and then you can leave. So where was Cho? Where would she be in a place like this? I looked around for places that looked half way decent, like a tea shop, or a jail, but it was useless.

Ignoring the shouts of salespeople, I almost made up my mind to turn back. But then a flash of pale skin and dark hair caught my eye—Cho. She wasn't facing me, but was turning her head side to side, as if looking for someone.

"Cho!" I shouted.

Gracefully, the figure turned, and walked towards me, keeping her head down. Once we were within a foot of each other, she lifted her head and…

"Malfoy!" I exclaimed.

With an absurdly feminine toss of his hand, the wig came flying off. "Why Potter, what a pleasant surprise."

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" I asked, still not fully recovered from the shock of…Draco.

"Just having a bit of fun, Potter. Crabbe, Goyle," he said, and the two goons appeared.

I'm pretty sure my mouth hadn't closed since the wig came off.

"Did teeny Potter think he was meeting his little girlfriend? Baby Potter must be so _disappointed_. Isn't there anything we can do to cheer him up?" Draco said in a patronizing voice.

"Sod off, Malfoy," I said through gritted teeth as Crabbe and Goyle advanced on me. Backing up, my heels came into contact with a very solid wall.

Damn.

Thankfully, Crabbe and Goyle aren't too bright, and began with their fists rather their wands. Punches, I could dodge—ow, well, most of them anyway—but spells were harder when you didn't have a wand.

Somewhere in my mind, it registered that Draco had left. Coward.

Then Goyle got the idea to press me against the wall while Crabbe proceeded to knock the living daylights out of me. Crabbe had gotten in a few good ones before I realized that nothing was keeping my legs from moving, and so I kicked. I kicked Goyle in the knee, which caused him to loosen his hold on me to tend to it, and I kicked Crabbe in the groin after he socked me on the shoulder.

Slightly surprised that that had been so easy, I hurried away.

Now as tempting as hurrying is when in Knockturn Alley, it's not always wise. It causes you to bump into less pleasant things than what you were originally hurrying away from in the first place. Like, for instance, I bumped into Lucius Malfoy.

"My, my, my, what do we have here?" he asked in his normal cold, sneering voice.

Mumbling an apology, I tried to get away from him. No such luck. His bony hand reached out and grabbed my already smarting shoulder.

"Ach," I said, struggling in his grip. This only caused him to tighten it.

"Alone are we? This isn't a very safe place for one to wander about alone."

"Y-yes. I, uh, got lost…" I said uneasily.

Lucius opened his mouth to say something, but a gasp came out instead. His hand released my shoulder and went to his own forearm.

Abruptly, he regained his posture and left without so much as a glance at me.

My uneasiness increased as the streets grew considerably emptier in a matter of seconds. Everyone was diapparating. This wasn't good.

That bad feeling in my stomach reached an all time high, and reminded me that I shouldn't be here. Mentally chiding myself for being such an idiot, I cautiously entered a pub. My eyes scanned the place and landed on what I was looking for—a fireplace. I walked right up to it, ignoring the people around me, and was about to jump in when I realized that I had no floo powder. I'd taken enough to get me here, but hadn't thought about coming back. I was stuck. I turned around and scanned the place. The bartender didn't look terrible. Repeating a mantra of 'Sirius is going to kill me', I walked up to him.

"H-hi," I said to him.

He gave me a once over and frowned. "What're you doin' here?"

I cleared my throat. "Um."

The man continued to stare at me. "You lost, boy?"

I shook my head. "I…don't have a way to get home." As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Now he knew that I was stuck here.

The man gave me a hard look. "You remind me of someone," he stated, and reached for something under the counter. "Hold out your hand."

I did so, mostly out of instinct, and I felt my hand being filled with powder. I looked up at the man to thank him, but he was gone. Not wanting to spend another second here, I went straight back to the fireplace and threw in the powder. "Number 12, Grimmauld Place," I said, and was whooshed away.

As I brushed the ashes off myself in the middle of our living room, I glanced up to see Sirius sitting in the armchair in front of me.

Now, my first thoughts were along the lines of "Does he know where I've been? How long have I been gone? Does he look mad?"

And then I remembered what had happened before he left, and they were more like, "Where did he go? How long has he been here? Is he okay? Does he look drunk? Will he want to talk about it?"

And then I felt horrible. Sirius had had an emotional breakdown right in front of me, and then left because he was embarrassed or something, and I had gone chasing after a girl in Knockturn Alley.

"What happened to you?" he asked quietly.

I don't like it when Sirius asks things quietly. It messes with my mind and makes me blurt out stupid things. "Um…I had a slight run in with Crabbe and Goyle." Well, that was true.

He nodded. "I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to break down like that in front of you, and I shouldn't have left."

I shook my head. "It's okay. Where'd you go?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

I thought back through the events of the day. Was there any way he could know that I went to Knockturn Alley? I didn't think so.

"I went to the cemetery," Sirius said after a while.

"But…they haven't had the funeral yet."

Sirius nodded sadly. "I know. I went to see your parents. Why don't you sit down, Har?"

I sat down in the chair next to him.

"Where were you? I didn't think I was gone long enough for you to come looking for me."

Sirius's face was blank, and he was still talking in that quiet voice.

I shrugged. "Um, well, I was worried about you. You just kind of ran out of here…I thought maybe you went to Diagon Alley to get a drink or something. Your note didn't…"

The note. I left "Cho's" note on the table. He knew where I'd been.

* * *

_A/N: So, a quick one, and a long one at that! Someone give this girl a prize. Let me know what you think, or what you think will happen. _

_Oh yeah, and if any of you noticed that I had song lyrics on the first three chapters, but not the last two...I decided to stop doing that. The song worked with my original plot, but not the new one, so...it's gone! Poof! _


	6. Dun Dun Dun The Fight

**Disclaimer: I do not own George Stephanopoulos, or any of his thoughts or ideas. **

(Harry's POV)

"…uh, didn't say where you'd gone…" I finished lamely.

"Interestingly, yours did. But, please, tell me that you didn't actually go to Knockturn Alley."

"Um…it's a funny story, actually," I began. Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Okay, well maybe 'funny' is the wrong word. You read the letter, right?"

He gave a slight nod.

"Well, it wasn't Cho who sent it."

"No kidding," he said sarcastically. "I'm actually pretty surprised at you, Harry. I mean…I know you like the girl, but did she really strike you as someone who would be in Knockturn Alley?"

I shook my head. "Well, no, not really, but—"

"But you didn't think about that. I mean…Merlin, Harry. What if it had been a Death Eater who had sent that to you?"

I didn't say anything, because I really didn't want to think about what would have happened in that case.

"….It wasn't, was it?" Sirius asked in a worried voice.

I smiled a little. "Nah. It was Malfoy."

"What happened?" Sirius said, and to his credit, he was taking this a lot better than I thought he would.

"I told you. I got into a run in with Crabbe and Goyle."

Sirius's eyes narrowed, prodding me to elaborate. "Um, okay, so I got to Knockturn Alley, and I was looking for Cho for a while, and then I thought I saw her, but it turned out to be Malfoy. He'd written the letter as a joke, and was wearing a wig." I think I may have blushed a little here. I felt stupid for believing the letter was from Cho. "Then Crabbe and Goyle beat me up a bit, but they just used their fists, which was good since I didn't have my wand with me. Anyway, then I got—"

"You _what_?" Sirius's somewhat calm demeanor disappeared.

"Um…I got away…" I said, confused.

"Before that," he said.

Oh. The wand. I closed my eyes. _Idiot_. "I didn't have my wand with me," I repeated.

"You didn't have your _wand_ with you?" he asked slowly.

"I…um…"

"Harry," Sirius said shortly.

"Yeah. Um..." I became interested in my shoes.

"You've said that already," Sirius said in a harder voice. He shook his head, and asked, "What happened after that?"

"Well, I got away, and ran into…Lucius Malfoy…but he left after just a few minutes, and then I went into a pub and, uh, borrowed some floo powder from the bartender, and came back here." I said all this without looking at him.

"I hate to say this, Harry, but this was really stupid of you. I don't know what you were thinking. I mean…you're smarter than this, and you know that."

Sirius didn't sound angry, per se, just disappointed, I guess.

"But…if it_ had_ been Cho, and I hadn't gone, then what would have happened to her?" I asked.

"What would have happened to _you_ if it had been a Death Eater?" Sirius argued.

I shrugged.

"Look, I know you've got this weird hero complex that makes you think that everyone's safety is your responsibility, but it's not. Sometimes you do have to consider what could happen to _you_ before you go off and do something like this."

I looked up at him. "I knew that you'd bring Remus into this somehow."

Sirius's eyes widened a bit. "How did I bring Remus into this?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Sirius…I don't want to get into this again."

"What are you talking about, Har?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. He knew what I was talking about. If I had stopped to think before going to the Department of Mysteries, bad things wouldn't have happened.

"Harry?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to do this again."

"Do _what_ again?"

"Look, if you want to yell at me for going to Knockturn Alley, go right ahead. But I don't want to talk about what happened that night again."

"Harry…I wasn't talking about that night. I just meant what happened today. I…you know that that's not how I feel about that night. We've been through that."

"So why do you keep bringing it up?"

"I didn't!"

"Whatever," I said.

Sirius sighed. "Look, let's just talk about today, okay?"

"Fine."

Sirius kind of glared at me a little. I guess I deserved that.

"So, I understand why you went to Knockturn Alley…well, kind of. I get why you thought you should. But I don't understand why you didn't think to have your wand. I mean, come on, Harry, you know better than that. You _know_ that you always carry your wand with you, I mean, it's like clothes. You just always have them. Although…you didn't have real clothes on either, and I'm not sure what to think about that."

I shrugged. "I thought Cho was in trouble," I mumbled.

"No, you thought Cho wanted a date with you," Sirius said in a somewhat nicer voice.

I glanced up at him. "I guess."

Sirius nodded knowingly, and kept my gaze. "Now. What happened after you got back here?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Well…this. You saw me come in, Sirius. I didn't do anything after I came home."

Sirius just kept looking at me, as if he were waiting for me to catch on to something. Sighing, I went back over the conversation we had had in my head. Oh…right. I lowered my eyes to the floor.

"No…look at me," he said mildly.

I met his eyes. "Look…I'm sorry, Sirius."

He didn't say anything, he just kept giving me that expectant look.

"I didn't mean to lie to you," I said softly.

Sirius's eyes hardened a bit. "I think you did, though. You were weighing your options as soon as you saw me—I could tell. You never were a good liar, Harry."

I bit my lip. "Yeah," was all I could think of to say.

"I don't understand why you lied to me though," he said.

"Well, technically, I didn't," I interjected.

Bad idea. Sirius's eyes flashed. "You might as well have. If I hadn't seen the note, you would've spun some tale about the Three Broomsticks, and wouldn't have given it a second thought. And I would have believed you, Harry. I would have believed you."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, until now, you haven't really given me any reason not to trust you. And damn it, Harry, I liked it that way!"

"Well, I'm sorry for just trying to make things easier!" I said defensively. "I mean, nothing bad happened, so I didn't see why you needed to worry about it. It wasn't any of your goddamn business!"

"Oh really?" Sirius said in that quiet voice of his.

"Yes! Er, no! It wasn't your problem. It was mine, and I took care of it."

"Yes, and you did very well at that. Why, just take a look at your face—I couldn't have done it better myself."

"You couldn't have given me a better black eye?" I asked.

"You better believe that I could. But you know that's not what I meant."

I shook my head angrily.

"Harry—" he said, exasperated.

"What?" I spat out.

Now it was Sirius's turn to shake his head. "I'm going for a walk, and I trust that you'll be here when I get back."

"Thought you didn't trust me," I said.

Sirius looked like he'd like to slap me. "You better watch it, kid." And with that, he stormed out the door.

I don't know who he thought he was. He certainly wasn't my father—he had no right to lecture me like that.

_He is your godfather…and he could've done a lot worse than lecturing_.

Godfather, my ass, he couldn't just be my friend sometimes, and pretend to be my guardian whenever he feels like it.

_But he _is_ your guardian_.

Angrily, I shoved the little voice deep inside of me. I didn't want to hear that right now. I just wanted to be mad at Sirius in peace.

_How can you be mad at someone in pea—_

Shut up!

* * *

_A/N: Allo. So, here it is. They're not quite in 'Muggle world' yet, but don't worry, it's coming. _

_Guess where they're going when they finally do get to 'Muggle world', and I'll give you a prize. A hint--it's in America. _


	7. Passports and Forgiveness

**Disclaimer: I do not believe that Sirius Black is dead. Nor will I ever. **

  


(Sirius's POV)

"Well, James, Lily…I think I screwed up. I don't know why I'm the one who was left here with Harry. You would have done a much better job at it than I just did. In fact, can we trade? James? You want to come down here and deal with this, while I go say hi to Lily? It'd be great fun…" I said out loud.

I was walking down the street, with both my hands in my pockets, and I was talking to my dead friends. I do that sometimes.

I couldn't decide if I was mad or not. Mostly, I was embarrassed, I think. I'd been mortified by what had happened earlier in Harry's room. I can't believe that he'd seen me like that…

And then to come home, and him not be there? I was sure that I had scared him off for good this time.

But no. Harry had come back, full of teenaged attitude and all sorts of fun stuff. Prat. I can't _believe_ he went to Knockturn Alley voluntarily.

Shaking my head, I realized that this really wasn't as calming as everyone makes it out to be, and went back inside.

Harry wasn't still in the living room, but I really hadn't expected him to be. I started walking up the stairs.

"Harry," I called towards the general direction of his room.

No answer.

"Want to make some noise to let me know that you're here?" I said loudly as I passed his room.

I was acknowledged with the sound of metal hitting wood—his alarm clock, I hope.

Dinner was a silent affair—as in, we ate separately. He wasn't talking to me, so I wasn't talking to him. This made it difficult to decide where we were going to go tomorrow. I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask him though.

Bracing myself, I knocked on his door. "Har?" I said, then mentally chiding myself for using his nickname of sorts. We were fighting, and this made me look like I wanted to make up. Not that I didn't, but I didn't want to initiate it just yet.

"What?" he asked in a pretty emotionless voice.

I sighed, and leaned against the closed door. "I take it you're still mad?"

He didn't answer right away. Just when I was getting my hopes up, he answers, "Yes."

I was pretty glad at that moment that he couldn't see me through the door. "Fine. But I need you to tell me where you want to go tomorrow."

There was a pause, then, "Why?"

Why? Because I asked, and I'd like to consider your opinion, you little bugger. I sighed again. "Never mind. We'll figure it out tomorrow."

"Okay," Harry said in a slightly less hostile voice.

The next morning I was surprised when Harry came downstairs and sat across from me at the table. He kind of sat there for a minute, then promptly laid his head on the table and closed his eyes—just like every morning.

I caught myself smiling at the sight of him, but then reminded myself that we were still fighting. Or were we? Was this Harry's way of making up?

"We're out of milk," I said, just for the sake of speaking.

Harry looked up, and looked confused for a second. "Oh…yeah. I forgot," he said, which confused _me_. Did he mean that he forgot we were out of milk, or that he forgot we were fighting?

Without another word, Harry got up and climbed the stairs. I guess that was my answer.

"Harry," I called after him. He stopped, but didn't turn around. "We're leaving in two hours."

Harry continued up the stairs, and to his room. This was going to be fun trip.

Two hours later, and Harry reappeared from his room. He was lugging his trunk down the stairs, and I swear, it took all my self control not to laugh at him. He obviously wasn't allowed to perform magic—although he probably could've gotten away with it—so he couldn't cast any weightless or bottomless charms.

I turned off all the lights, and locked the door before following Harry outside. Gripping my bag, I placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and apparated us to the nearest Muggle airport. As soon as we got there, Harry shrugged off my hand, and turned to look to me.

"Where are we going?" he asked curtly.

I raised my eyebrows. This was getting old. "I have no idea. Wherever the plane takes us, I guess."

Harry looked at me like I was an idiot. He sighed. "Do you have any Muggle money?"

I shook my head. "Why would I need Muggle money?"

Harry gave me that look again. "Well, you're gonna need some before you get on the plane."

"Why? It's not like I'm buying the thing."

"You have to buy a ticket," he said, and walked up to the lady at the counter.

"Yes?" she asked him.

"Could you tell me what outgoing flights you have that leave sometime in the next five hours?" he asked.

The lady typed some things on her computer. "You don't know where you want to go?"

Harry begrudgingly looked back at me. I shrugged. "We talked about America," I said.

Harry turned back to the lady. "America," he repeated flatly.

"Well America is a pretty big place. You looking for somewhere touristy?"

"Uh…yeah. That would be good," Harry said.

With an overdramatic sigh, the lady began rattling off cities to Harry. "We've got Atlanta, Georgia leaving in two hours, Miami, Florida in six, Washington DC in one, and Las Vegas in three."

"Okay, thank you," Harry said, and began to walk away.

"Wait! Sir, aren't you going to buy tickets?"

"Um…" Harry looked at me, and said, "he left his credit card at home. We'll have to go get it."

I made a mental note to ask what a credit card was.

"Now what?" I asked.

"We have to go to Gringotts and get a money exchange," Harry said without looking at me.

I sat down on one of the benches in the airport. Harry followed suit, but was careful not to sit too close to me. Neither of us said anything for quite some time.

"Harry, how long are we going to do this?" I finally asked.

Harry shrugged. "Not too much longer, I'm thinking."

I sighed. "Why do you say that?"

He looked at me. "I dunno. We're both tired of it, I think."

"Oh," I said quietly. I'd been hoping for a more personal answer. Like an apology.

Harry looked at his luggage. "So…this isn't one of those fights where we just get over it and move on?"

I shook my head slowly. "I don't guess so."

After a slight pause, he mumbled "I'm sorry," to his trunk.

I gave him a sideways look, which would've been more effective if he'd look at me, and said, "I think your luggage forgives you."

He looked up me, slightly confused, then gave me a hesitant grin. "What about you?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I didn't do anything to your luggage, so I'm not sure an apology is in order on my part…" I said with a sly grin.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's okay," I said sincerely. "Forget about it."

Harry nodded, but looked at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked.

"Well…" Harry looked uncomfortable. "I mean, I'm not really sure how this works…but, am I, like, grounded now?"

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Um, well, no."

"Really?" Harry asked dubiously.

"Of course. I think I'd feel like too big of a hypocrite, because Merlin knows that I've done worse things."

Harry smirked. "Well yeah. I guess I just thought…with the lying…"

I shook my head. "Just try not to do it again, okay?"

Harry nodded.

"And please, _please_, always remember your wand." I said emphatically.

Harry looked sheepish. "Yes sir."

I blanched. "Sir?"

Harry laughed. "It seemed appropriate."

"Well it wasn't. Merlin…_sir_?" I shook my head. "What am I gonna do with you, Harry?"

"Take me to Las Vegas?"

I grinned. "Yeah, alright. That sounds '_appropriate'_," I said, reaching over to mess up Harry's hair.

He batted away my hand, so I just let my arm fall onto his shoulder.

"But really…that's it? Just the lecture?" Harry asked with a disbelieving look.

"Mmm hmm," I said, and smacked him upside the head. "And that, for being stupid."

Harry rolled his eyes, and kind of grinned at me.

"Sirius?" Harry asked suddenly. "Do you have a passport?"

"A passport?" I repeated. The word sounded familiar, but I wasn't sure.

"Yeah. It looks like…well, that," Harry said, pointing to a large poster that read 'PASSPORTS NECESSARY FOR OVERSEAS TRAVEL' and had a picture of one.

"Oh! Yeah, I have one of those," I said.

Harry gave me a skeptical look. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I insisted. "They make you get one during Auror training, just in case you have to do something under cover as a Muggle. I've never used it, but I'm sure it's still at my house."

"Does it have your real name on it?"

"No…it says Harold or something. But I've also got a driver's license, and a birth certificate to match."

"Harold and Harry…that's…interesting," Harry said with an amused look.

"Have you got one?" I asked.

"A passport? Yeah. But that's a…really long story, and I'd rather not tell it at the moment. But I've got one."

I wanted to ask him about it, but decided not to. We didn't need any thing else to disagree about right now.

"Okay," I said. "So, now that that's settled, we need to go to the bank, you said?"

"Yeah," Harry said, standing up. He began to pick up his trunk, but then set it down again. "Sirius? Could you, er…" he indicated to his trunk.

I grinned. "Make sure no one's looking," I said, and discreetly pulled out my wand. I quickly put the weightless charm on Harry's trunk. "Okay. Ready to go?"

"Yeah. Thanks," Harry said.

Slinging an arm around Harry's shoulder, we walked out of the airport.

After one thoroughly frustrating trip to Gringotts, and one confusing and mildly amusing trip through airport security, we were on our way to Las Vegas. Well, we were on our way to the plane. We still had half an hour till it took off.

I felt considerably happier than I had a few hours ago. I decided that Harry and I shouldn't fight anymore. It was annoying, and it was just a waste of time since we were going to make up again anyway.

Harry was just sitting there in the terminal, looking as if he belonged there, and I was watching him. I was just staring at Harry, and I think it made him a little uncomfortable because he kept shooting me glances. I didn't care though. The kid amazed me.

I was thinking too, though. I was thinking about what Harry had asked earlier—about me grounding him. He had seemed so unsure about the whole idea, and I wondered if he had really ever had any kind of consequences other than detentions and lectures. I was leaning towards 'no', because no consequence savvy kid would ask their guardian if they were sure that they shouldn't be grounded. I decided to ask him about it.

"Harry?"

He looked at me. "What?"

"What, uh, what did the Dursleys do if you got into trouble?" I asked.

Harry shrugged one shoulder, and thought for a moment. "I don't…I never did things that would constitute as 'trouble' in their house. I mean, they would get mad if I didn't complete a chore on time, or if I slept too late, or said the wrong thing, or did any kind of magic, but I never really did anything there that someone like you would consider as getting into trouble."

"Why not?" I asked, vaguely wondering what 'someone like you' meant.

"Well…I guess I was kind of afraid. But there also weren't very many opportunities. I mean, I didn't really have toys to hoard or throw, and I didn't go anywhere so I couldn't stay out past curfew or steal anything, or get arrested. And I didn't like, talk back—well, I guess I probably did, but they didn't mind in the way that you would. All they cared about was making sure I got the housework done, and if I was…disrespectful in the process, then that just meant more food for them."

"Did they ever hit you?" I dared to ask.

"No, at least, not in the way that you're thinking. I got an occasional cuff here or slap there, but they didn't abuse me or anything," Harry said matter-of-factly.

"But they kept food from you?"

"Well…sometimes. They were fond of the 'bed without supper' punishment. And then when Dudley was on a diet, but that wasn't just me."

I nodded.

"Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking about it earlier, when you asked if you were grounded. It made me wonder if you ever had been before," I said.

"Oh. Well, no, I haven't been. I mean, I've been, er, _confined_ to my room, but…I have a feeling that that was different than what you're talking about," Harry said slowly.

"Mmm. Just for the record, that is different than what I was talking about."

Harry paused, then asked, "What exactly were you talking about?"

"In my mind, and in most decent parents' minds, it doesn't mean locking you in your room without food for hours on end. It basically just means taking away privileges. Normally, those, uh, privileges are specified. Like, 'no quidditch for two weeks,' or, 'no leaving the house without permission for a month,' etcetera. I wouldn't just leave you wondering—or locked up in a room, for that matter."

Harry nodded. "Well, you know, that's what I thought, I just thought I should make sure."

I nodded. "This was a weird conversation," I said.

Harry agreed. "You started it."

"I know. And…if you ever, um…have any questions about…well, anything, you can ask me. I don't mind weird conversations," I said rather awkwardly.

"I know. I'll keep that in mind," he said smoothly. Throughout this whole conversation, Harry had remained completely collected, and hadn't looked embarrassed once. Not that it was embarrassing subject matter, it just was a little weird. I'd thought this would've gotten more uncomfortable than it had. Maybe this meant we could talk about anything. We did have a cross-continental flight coming up…

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so, no one guessed it right. I was a little disappointed. They're going to Vegas. Reason being, I've been there, and can actually write about it without having to look stuff up. I don't hate New York or anything. _

_Also, judging by some of the reviews, I think some of you were expecting a stricter Sirius than I've portrayed. But...Sirius wasn't strict in the books. Plus, it didn't feel right. Sirius is Harry's guardian, yes, but the whole instant disciplinarian father just didn't work for me. So, sorry if anyone was disappointed. _


	8. Bacon and Chortling

**Disclaimer: Nobody ever reads these. Go back to the previous chapters and read the funny things that I put here instead of, "I don't own Harry Potter"**

"Harry…Harry…" I heard Sirius say.

I opened my eyes. "What?" I asked, shrugging his hand off my arm.

"You were having a nightmare," he said.

"No I wasn't," I replied.

Sirius's eyebrows went up. "Are you sure? You were muttering things…"

"Not that I can remember," I said honestly.

He gave me a dubious look, but didn't say anything else.

Sighing, I leaned back against the seat. "How long was I asleep?"

Sirius glanced at his watch. "About a half an hour. Sorry for waking you."

I shook my head. "It's fine. I shouldn't sleep anyway—the jet lag will kill me."

"Jet lag?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, you know how your sleeping pattern gets all screwed up when you change time zones?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, looking interested.

"Jet lag's just the word Muggles use for that," I said flatly.

Sirius's eager expression deflated. "That's boring," he said in a voice reminiscent of a small child.

"Sorry," I said, chuckling.

"Don't chortle at me!" Sirius said.

This made me laugh harder. "_Chortle_? Really? Who says 'chortle'?"

Sirius just looked at me. "I like that word. And I never get to use it."

I cleared my throat, and eventually stopped laughing.

"So. What do you want to do?" Sirius asked.

"Well, there's not a whole lot we _can_ do. We're over an ocean," I said.

Reclining in his chair a little, Sirius looked at the ceiling of the plane. "We could talk."

"What do you think we've been doing?" I asked.

"Well, you were sleeping, and then you were making fun of me," Sirius said with a slight pout.

I rolled my eyes. "What do you want to talk about?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. What do _you_ want to talk about?"

I deeply regret what I said next. I couldn't help myself. I was in a sarcastic mood, and it slipped out. I didn't actually want to talk about sex, but that's what I said.

Sirius snorted, but his expression changed very quickly. He sat up straight and looked at me. "Harry, have you ever had that talk?" he asked very seriously.

I think I may have blushed a little. "Well, sure. I…I've heard about it, or read about it. I mean, I know everything already."

Sirius didn't look convinced. "But…has anyone explained it to you?"

"Not in person. But I know, erm, I know what everything is, and how, uh, it all works."

Sirius shook his head. "That's really not the same. You might know _how_ but you probably don't know _when_ or with _who_, do you?"

"Well…I'm sure I'll figure it out when the time comes." Wrong answer. I could see Sirius's expression change from cautionary to determined.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it either, but I've got to make sure nothing happens to you just because you didn't know. It really is important that we do this." he seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince me.

I glanced around me. "Look, Sirius…um, we can talk about this, I guess, if it matters that much to you, but…maybe somewhere a little…oh I don't know, more private?"

Sirius looked around too. "No one's listening," he said reasonably. "They're all watching the movie."

I gave him a pleading look. "Please?" I said, dragging the word out, and not caring if I sounded like a little kid.

Sirius hesitated, but then said, "Yeah, of course. We'll do it later."

I smiled. "Thanks."

"But we _will_ do it later, mind you," he said.

I nodded. "I know. But let's talk about something else right now."

"Fine, but I'm not letting you pick the topic this time," Sirius said with a small smile.

"I was joking!" I said indignantly.

Sirius gave a dry laugh. "You should know better than to joke about things that will get you into embarrassing conversations."

I grimaced. "I can't wait."

Sirius mirrored my expression. "Anyway…ah. Tell me about your OWLs! I meant to ask you earlier."

"You really shouldn't be that excited," I said warily. "But they went okay, I think. We haven't gotten the results back though."

Sirius nodded. "Mine were the worst. I had forgotten about them, actually, until a few days before."

I looked at him, bewildered. "How did you _forget_ about them?"

Sirius shrugged. "Bludger to the head'll do that to ya. I was out of classes for a week, but I still managed to get 10 OWLs."

"Hermione will probably get 12," I said.

"She really is one of the brightest witches I've ever met," he commented.

I nodded. "Alright, my turn."

"Your turn?"

"That topic sucked. It's my turn to pick one."

Sirius sighed dramatically. "Fine."

I thought for a minute. "Well…I had this kind of stupid question," I said.

"Okay," he said easily.

"I mean…I already know the answer, but, I don't know, I guess I just kind of have to ask, that way I can stop thinking about it," I said.

"You can ask me, Har , you know that," Sirius said.

I sighed, frustrated with myself for having to ask this. "Is there any way that I'll ever have to go back to the Dursleys'?" I forced myself to ask. I was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Not while I'm still alive," Sirius said without hesitating, and I believed him.

I nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I knew that. I just…"

"I know," Sirius said in a strange voice.

Sirius leaned back in his seat, and didn't say anything for a while. He seemed to be thinking, so I didn't say anything either.

Finally, Sirius turned back to look at me. "Harry…I know that this probably isn't what you meant, but just for the record, there's not anything that you could ever do that would make me send you back to them," my godfather said slowly. "I don't want you to ever think that."

To be honest, that _had_ been a part of what I'd meant, but I wasn't going to say that.

"I…" I wasn't sure what to say, so I nodded.

Sirius glanced at me, then reached over and squeezed my shoulder.

"What else?" Sirius asked briskly.

'"What, what else?"

"What other questions do you have? I think I did well with that one, and I'm ready for a challenge."

"Nu-uh," I said, shaking my head. "It's your turn."

Sirius grunted. "Do we really have to take turns?"

I nodded. "Yes."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Fine. I have a question for you. It was probably nothing, but I'll ask anyway."

"Okay."

"The other day, when I spilled that potion on the bacon, you got this really funny look on your face when I threw a piece at you. What was up with that?" Sirius asked.

I groaned inwardly. I hadn't meant for him to notice that. He would make a big deal out of it, and it was nothing. I sighed, and looked at him. "Okay, I'll tell you, but only if you promise me that you're not going to freak out or anything."

Sirius slowly shook his head, "I can't promise that."

After staring at him for a few seconds, I looked away. He was going to freak out if I told him…

"Harry, just tell me," he said.

"But just keep in mind that it happened a long time ago, and I'm fine. Okay?"

"Fine," he said warily.

"Okay. Well, I was maybe five years old, and Aunt Petunia wanted me to help her cook breakfast."

Maybe I can just stop there. That's the main idea. Kind of.

I didn't say anything else, and I could feel Sirius looking at me.

"…and?" he finally asked.

I thought back to when it had happened.

"_Harry! Come make breakfast. You might as well do something useful," Aunt Petunia snapped at me. _

"_But…I'm too small, Aunt Petunia."_

_Aunt Petunia drew her lips into a thin line. "Ungrateful little…" she muttered. "Fine. Follow me."_

_My heart started racing, and I thought I was in trouble. I followed her, though, dragging my feet. She led me to the kitchen, and pushed me in front of the stove. _

"_You can at least do the bacon. Even a stupid brat can do that." _

_Well, I knew how to do that. You just flip it over. I ran over to the fridge and got it out. I set it on the floor, because I couldn't reach the counter, and got the frying pan out from the cabinet that was beneath the counter. Careful not to let the bacon touch the floor, I pulled a few pieces off and set them in the pan. I stood up, and was faced with a problem. I couldn't reach the stove. _

"_Aunt Petunia?" I asked in a small voice._

"_What?" she said without looking at me. _

"_Um…I…I can't reach," I said nervously. _

"_Insolent boy…" she muttered, grabbing the pan from me. "What were you thinking, putting it on the floor?"_

_I shrugged, but she didn't see me. She set the pan down on the stove and turned up the heat. _

"_All you have to do is turn them," she snapped at me. "You can at least do that."_

_Slowly, I nodded, but I didn't think I could. Why would I be able to reach it now, if I couldn't before?_

_I stood on my tiptoes for a few minutes, listening to the bacon fry. I couldn't even see in the pan. Why was everything so high up? _

_After a few more minutes, I began to panic. I could smell the bacon burning. I turned around, to tell Aunt Petunia, but she wasn't there. _

_Uh oh…_

_Within a few seconds, smoke was accumulating around the pan. I began to jump up and down, trying to see it better, but I couldn't do anything to stop it. _

"_Boy! Can't you see that it's burning!" came Uncle Vernon's booming voice. _

"_I'm sorry!" I squealed. "I can't reach it."_

_Angrily, Uncle Vernon reached out and turned off the stove. I watched as he peered at the bacon. With a look of disgust, he knocked the pan onto the floor. He forgot that I was standing right next to him though, and some of the hot grease and bacon fell on me. I screamed, and Uncle Vernon turned to look at me. _

"_Stop whining, boy, it's just a little burn," he said, then turned away. "Petunia!" he yelled, and she came rushing in. "Take care of this," he said, gesturing vaguely to either me or the mess. _

_Aunt Petunia gave me a tub of Vaseline and a band aid, and sent me to my room. _

I glanced at him, and cleared my throat. "Well, she told me to do the bacon. I'd seen her do it before, and it looked pretty easy," I said, and then made a decision. He didn't need to know the real truth. So he wouldn't. "So I was flipping it, and my hand slipped and one of the pieces came up and hit me in the face. It was really hot and grease was like dripping from it and it got all over me. It freaked me out, and I always remembered it."

Sirius rose an eyebrow. "She just let a five year old kid fry bacon?"

I shrugged. "She wasn't overly protective of me."

Sirius shook his head. "That is unbelievable. You don't just hand a kid a frying pan and let them have a go at it!"

Yeah, I definitely made the right decision. If I had told him what had really happened, he would have exploded.

Sirius sat back in his seat, and was dwelling on what I'd just told him. "Did you have a scar? I mean, that must've been a pretty serious burn."

"Yeah, I've got one," I said without thinking.

Sirius studied my face. "I don't see it."

"Um…yeah." I didn't know what to say. I just pulled back the collar of my shirt to show a splotchy scar on my collar bone.

Sirius reached over and ran a finger across it. "How'd you manage that? I thought you said it hit your face. Surely it didn't drip down that much….wait a second."

I looked down. I really should be a better liar by now.

"How would you have reached the stove? I mean, you aren't extraordinarily tall, and a five year old couldn't reach that high. And you wouldn't have been burned there. Harry…" Sirius said, looking at me. "What really happened?"

"I'd rather not say," I mumbled.

Sirius scoffed. "You'd rather not say? Well, I'd rather you did."

I shrugged.

"Oh, come on Harry. It can't be that bad."

"You're going to blow it out of proportion," I said.

"Harry," Sirius said, and I could tell that it was annoying him that I wouldn't tell him.

"Fine," I said, and began to tell him the whole story. When I was done, I turned to look at him, and shrugged.

Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, "I'm sorry for bringing this up, but do you remember when we were at the Department of Mysteries, and how we were fighting, side by side?"

"Yeah…" _Way to change the subject,_ I thought.

"And you trusted me there?" Sirius prodded.

"Yeah. Of course," I said.

"With your life?"

I nodded.

"Then explain to me something. Why would you trust the same person with your life that you were afraid to tell a story to from when you were a kid?"

Really? That was what he was upset about?

"Sirius…I'm—" I began.

"No, no," he said, shaking his head, "don't apologize. That's not what I meant. I just don't want to feel like you have to keep things from me."

I bit my lip. "Sorry," I muttered. "I thought you'd be upset."

"But it wouldn't matter, even if I was. I still would've wanted you to tell me," he said.

"Okay," I said.

Sirius sighed. "Okay. So whose turn is it?"

"Wait—you're really not upset about that?"

Sirius smirked. "Well of course I'm upset about it. It was awful, what happened to you, and even more so that they didn't do anything about it. But, contrary to popular belief, I _can_ control my temper." He shrugged. "It's just that often times, I choose not to."

_A/N: Sorry about the longish wait. I was at camp, and then, you know, writer's block. But anyway, what'd you think of HP 5? I thought it was great, especially Luna, up until that line when Harry's having that internal battle with Voldemort and he says, "No, you're the weak one because you aren't capable of love or friendship. I feel sorry for you." Seriously? Who wrote that? Not Rowling. Argh. _


	9. If Muggles Could Do Magic

**Disclaimer: Honestly, if you actually have read this, or any of the previous ones, let me know. I'm starting to think that all of you are ignoring these (not that I particularly blame you…). I post real ones, then get bored of it, and post funny ones, and no one notices. Go back and read them—I'd hate to think that I'd wasted precious moments thinking up disclaimers that would make you smile. **

……………………………………………………………..

"It's late," Harry said, throwing himself on the bed in our hotel room.

"No it's not, it's early," I said, sitting down next to him.

Harry kind of moaned. "Turn the lights out," he said.

I began bouncing on the bed. "It's already four in the morning. We might as well embrace the day and just go to bed early tonight."

Harry moved his arm around vaguely, trying to hit me. Failing, he sighed and rolled over on his stomach, burying his face in a pillow.

I smiled at the sight of him, but it quickly faded as a nagging thought came back to me. Harry had been quieter than usual ever since he'd told me what had happened with the bacon. It still made me so angry to even think about it. I kept getting this feeling though that Harry wasn't telling me something. He'd kept shooting me glances all throughout the rest of the plane ride, and had only forced a laugh when I'd tried to get some pictures to move. I'd caught him staring off into space a few times with this sad look on his face. I wasn't sure if he was reliving it, or trying to decide if he could tell me something else, if there was something else.

I sighed inwardly. "Har?" I asked. "Is everything okay?"

Harry briefly lifted his head and scowled at me. "Tired," he said, and promptly hid his face in the pillow once more.

"No, I mean…is there anything that you want to tell me?" I asked hesitantly.

Harry gave a dramatic sigh and looked up again to blink at me. He shook his head, yawned, and slumped over again.

"You sure?" I persisted.

"S'rius, come 'ff it," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

I sighed, he was making me tired. I glanced around the room. There was only the one bed, and a very uncomfortable looking sofa. The bed was pretty roomy though, and the more I thought about it, the more tired I got. I unceremoniously pushed Harry over some—he was probably already asleep anyway—and got comfortable on the other side of the bed. I set my wand on the bedside table, and closed my eyes.

………………………………………………………………………..

_Bright sun. _

I rolled over, and squinted in the over apparent daylight. I looked over at Harry—he was still asleep, and his position hadn't changed. My watch said that it was almost noon, so I placed a hand on his back.

"Harry," I said, drawing the word out. He didn't move or anything, so I shook him a little. "Har, wake up."

Eyes still closed, he jerked away from my hand. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'go away', and I laughed.

I noticed that he hadn't changed out of his clothes from yesterday (but then, neither had I), and an idea came to me. Smiling slyly, I began to tickle him. I watched his eyes shoot open, and he tried not to laugh as he attempted to wriggle away from me. I slowly moved my hands upward, and tickled the sensitive spots under his arms. He lost the fight not to laugh, but was still squirming around. My hands moved higher still, to his most ticklish spot—his neck. Now he gave in, batted my hands away, and sat up. He turned to glare at me, but his expression quickly changed to a slightly…searching look. He looked rather disappointed before clearing his face of all expression.

"You alright?" I asked lightly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to take a shower," he said briskly, and got up.

I watched him go after he'd grabbed some clothes, and ran over our last few conversations in my head. I didn't think I'd said anything wrong, or…

I audibly exhaled, and hit myself in the forehead. I could be really thick sometimes. Harry must think that I wasn't upset about what happened to him. Honestly…I was so stupid. I'd been so wrapped up in showing him that I could keep myself in check the one time that he'd _wanted_ me to wig out.

I hit myself in the head again. It all made so much more sense now. And knowing Harry, he'd probably blown it a bit out of proportion and was thinking that I didn't think it was a big deal. I should probably do something about that.

Seconds later, Harry walked out of the bathroom. Without thinking, I strode over to him and put my arms around him. Harry's arms stayed slack at his sides, but I didn't care.

"Love you," I said on impulse.

Harry looked up at me, surprised. I let go of him. "What's going on, Sirius? Did something happen…?" he asked, looking worried.

I shook my head and sat down on the bed.

"No, nothing like that. I just…you didn't deserve to be mistreated like you were," I said fiercely. "If I thought it'd help, I'd go back and curse each and every person who ever did anything bad to you—starting with Petunia and Vernon Dursley."

A look of realization came over Harry. "Oh. That. Sirius, just forget about it. It's not a big dea—"

"Stop it. Yes, it is. It's important that you know that nothing like that's going to happen to you again. Understand?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah. But…it really _isn't_ a huge deal. They didn't purposely abuse me or anything…it could've been a lot worse."

"You deserved better," I said.

Harry gave me a small smile. "Well. Looks like I got 'better'."

"Nah. If you only remembered your parents…I wouldn't look much better at all."

Harry held my gaze. He shrugged a shoulder, and said, "Thanks," and I knew what he meant.

I cleared my throat, put an arm around him and pulled him closer to me.

"You okay?" he asked me after awhile.

I looked at him and grinned. "Are you? I should have told you this earlier, I think, when it first came up. I just assumed that you knew…"

Harry gave me a half smile. "Sirius? As much as I like this," he vaguely gestured to our position, "you need a shower."

"Prat," I said, giving him a mock glare.

"Git," he replied quickly.

As much as I wanted to engage in an insult war with my godson, I really did need to take a shower. I reached over and ruffled Harry's hair, and then made my way to the bathroom.

……………………………………………………………………………..

Walking out the hotel room side by side, I admitted to Harry that I had no idea what I was doing.

"I know," he replied cheekily.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Do _you_ know what to do?"

Harry was looking around. "Let's go that way," he said, pointing.

I shrugged and followed him. We went back into the hotel building, but through a different entrance. There was a small kiosk next to the front desk that was full of maps and brochures. Harry took one of everything, it seemed, and handed all but the map to me.

"What, you don't trust me with the map?" I asked, acting offended.

"Not really, no," Harry said nonchalantly. I gave him an annoyed look, but he wasn't looking at me. "Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"I don't know. I've never been here before…I'm not even sure what _is_ here. You're the one who wanted to come."

He glanced up at me. "Did you want to go somewhere else?" he asked.

"No, I wanted to go where you wanted to go. I meant that I thought you would have had someplace in mind to go once we got here."

Harry grinned a Marauder grin. I grinned back, even though I had no idea what he was planning. "We could rob the Bellagio hotel."

I looked at him, and after a beat, I said, "I don't get it."

"Oh…yeah, I guess you wouldn't. It was from an American movie…Dudley rented it."

"Ah…so you don't really want to rob a hotel?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "No, I was kidding."

I put on a disappointed act, and he laughed.

"Well, basically, we can go to a bar or a casino, see a shark exhibit…or do all three in one building… There's also a lion thing, lots of shopping places, _lots_ of casinos…" he said, reading a list of attractions off of the map.

"Let's go to the place with the sharks and the bar. I love Muggle beer."

Harry smirked, but agreed. "So I guess we should hail a taxi?"

I nodded, but was quickly changing my mind about the idea after several failed attempts to do so.

"We could apparate…" Harry suggested casually.

"But that's not the Muggle way."

"So? It's faster. And if Muggles could do magic, then they would apparate."

I cocked my head at him as he blushed, realizing what he'd just said.

"'Course, I know if Muggles could do magic, then they wouldn't be Muggles…" he said lamely.

I chuckled. "Well you've convinced me," I said, leading us behind the building. "Hang on to my arm, and we'll apparate—because, as you know, we aren't Muggles," I teased.

Harry glared, and grabbed my arm harder than necessary.

……………………………………………………………………..

_A/N: Points to whoever can guess which movie Harry was referring to.  
This last part wasn't beta'd because I wanted to get it up before the book comes out, and this may be my last chance, so here it is. Anybody else going to a release party tonight? _


	10. Of Embarrassment Wars and Drinking Games

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, yada, yada, yada. I also don' t own the slight references to _Friends_. **

_A/N: Look, I'm really sorry. I know that it's been weeks since I updated. I got the Deathly Hallows slump. But, this one's pretty long and rather amusing. _

_Warning: There is some underaged drinking, so...if that offends you or something, then feel free to not read this. _

"This is it?" Sirius asked, looking around.

"I guess."

"I don't see the sharks."

"Well, I think we'd have to go in…" I said, rolling my eyes. We were standing outside the Mandalay Bay hotel, which looked ridiculously expensive. Sirius reached out and pushed me through the door. "Hey!" I said, glaring back at him. He walked in as well and gave me a bright smile.

"Well you have to go first. I don't know how to act. But you, well you're a great Muggle."

"You could have just said 'ladies first' and I think I would've been less insulted," I said as we began walking through the huge building.

"What's wrong with being a great Muggle? It's certainly a respectable attribute," Sirius said with a completely straight face.

"Yeah, alright. Whatever."

"'Course…being a Muggle who can do magic, now that's even better," he said.

"Shut up."

"Mmm hmm," he said with a sideways glance at me. I sped up, but he kept in stride. Somehow, this became a race to see who could walk fastest while retaining some dignity. Sirius, of course, has longer legs, and had no problem out-walking me or nodding at the business men like he was one of them. During a particularly smug exchange of glances, I just stopped. Sirius continued walking like an idiot, and was trying to be discreet about checking out a woman in a waitress's uniform.

He waitress smiled at him. "In a hurry?" she asked, and he turned to indicate towards me, but realized that I wasn't beside him anymore. He did a complete 360 turn as he glared at me and turned back to her. Flashing her a smile, he looked over his shoulder and gestured to me to come closer. I closed the distance between us, and he reached out to put a hand on my shoulder. He squeezed it hard—probably to get back at me for the death grip during apparition.

"Oh, is this your son?" the pretty waitress asked.

"Well…Harry?...he's, er, just…he's my…yeah. Sure," he stammered.

She glanced from me to him and looked confused. "Um…you're not sure?"

I gave a sad little shrug. "He has paternity issues."

Her eyebrows went up, and Sirius hand squeezed harder. I wrenched my arm from his grip, and cocked my head at the waitress. "I don't know why…" I leaned in close to her, and whispered, "I just want him to love me, you know? But…"

She gave me a sympathetic look, and her mouth formed a small 'o'. She gave Sirius a venomous look, and then kissed me on the cheek. "You have such a charming son. You should be proud," she said to Sirius.

"Mmm hmm," Sirius said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What's your name?" she asked me.

"Harry," I answered, glancing at Sirius. His eyes were narrowed and he was giving me a 'just wait till we're not in public' look.

"Well I'm Janie, and if you ever need anything, you come find me, alright?"

I raised an eyebrow, and I'm pretty sure Sirius did too. "_Anything?_" I questioned.

"Yes, anything. I work in that restaurant over there," she pointed to a bar across the hall.

"Well, thanks," I said, trying not to smirk.

"I better go," she said, and with one more evil glare towards Sirius, she was gone, and Sirius's hand connected with the back of my head.

"Ow," I said, even though I was smiling, and so was he. He put an arm around me and shook his head again.

"You…God. I can't believe you did that."

"You're calling me a god?" I said, looking up at him.

He rolled his eyes. "In your dreams. Prat."

I shrugged. "I thought I was helping."

"Oh, I'm sure. 'Paternity issues'?"

This time I did smirk. "Did you see her face when I said that I just wanted love?"

Sirius tried to hide a smile. "Yes," he slapped me upside the head again, but not very hard.

"You know, you should stop doing that. She might call child protection," I said.

Sirius cast a glance over his shoulder back in the direction that she's gone, but she wasn't there. "So was this little act just for fun, or do I sense the beginning of an embarrassment war?"

"An embarrassment war?" I asked.

"I thought so. Alright, well, you started it."

"No! I meant, what is it?"

"Oh Harry. I think you know," he said obnoxiously.

I groaned. "Whatever." I looked around. "Do you even know where you're going?"

Sirius shook his head. "I was following you."

"Right. Er…there are some signs over there," I said, pointing.

Sirius had a weird smile on his face, but wouldn't tell me why. We eventually found the Shark Reef, and he paid to get us in.

"I'm not exactly sure what the exchange rate is…" he said as he handed over 32 American dollars.

I shrugged, and followed him inside the aquarium. It was filled with statues that looked like Buddha or something, and lots of artificial foliage. There was algae on some of the stone walls, and I assumed that that was real. We got in line, and were handed small devices that looked like Muggle remote controls. Sirius seemed very pleased with this, and was pressing all the buttons. He looked around, confused. "Nothing happened," he said.

"You have to put it to your ear, I think," I said.

Sirius cautiously lifted the remote to his ear and listened. His eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Yeah, Harry, you have to listen to it. I'm not sure what it's talking about…"

A small child in a stroller had been watching us and began laughing at Sirius. "It tells you about the fishies!" he exclaimed as his mother pushed him past us.

"Hmm," Sirius said, and pressed only one button at a time. "You know Har, I think he's right." He listened intently this time to the voice coming from the remote for a few seconds, then dropped it from his ear.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's boring after a while."

I chuckled. "Well, maybe it will be better once we actually get into the aquarium. You're holding up the line by just standing there, Sirius."

Sirius glanced at the people behind him. "Oh," he said, and walked forward towards the tanks. With a pointed look at me, he dutifully pressed the first button and lifted it to his ear, staring at the alligator in the tank. I did the same.

As fate would have it, by the fifth tank Sirius was bored, and suddenly noticed that we weren't alone. The place seemed to be brimming with girls in their twenties and thirties, few of whom were accompanied by a man. Sirius caught my eye, and grinned. "Just watch," he muttered, and looked down to smile at a young boy who was enthralled by the piranhas. "Those are so cool, aren't they?" Sirius said to him, crouching down. The boy looked wide eyed from Sirius to his mother—an attractive woman standing in front of an empty stroller—then nodded excitedly.

"Yeah, yeah, they're really great. If you stick your finger in there, then they bite you! They'll eat your _whole hand_ just with one bite. Maybe even your whole arm! Or your whole _body_!" the boy enthused, using his arms to specify how much the piranha could eat of you.

Sirius was playing along, and didn't seem to notice the boy's mother until she spoke. "Danny, leave the poor man alone. You know that it doesn't really matter how much a piranha could eat of you because you _aren't_ going to stick your hand in there, right?"

The boy made a face, but shook his head.

"Sorry…" the woman said to Sirius. "He gets a little overexcited sometimes."

"Oh, no, not at all," Sirius said, smiling. "I don't mind."

The woman smiled. "What part of England are you from?" Sirius must have looked confused because she quickly added, "Your accent—I thought it was British. Is it not?"

"Oh!" Sirius said, and I shook my head. He can be really thick at times. "I'm from around London."

"Really? I've always wanted to go," the woman said.

Sirius nodded. "It's a great place. I'm Sirius, by the way."

"Addie," she said, shaking his head. "And that's Danny."

Sirius inclined his head towards me. "That's Harry."

"Oh." The woman looked surprised, and glanced between me and Sirius. "Oh. Is Harry your…son?"

This time, Sirius was ready. "No, he's my—" he cut himself off, and glanced at me. "He was just real lonely, you know? Feeling left out, and whatnot, so I agreed to take him to the aquarium." He winked at me.

I groaned inwardly as my face heated up. I knew it was payback from before, but really…maybe a truce should be declared soon—after I get him back for this, that is.

"I mean, you thought Danny was a bit overexcited, you should have seen Harry a few tanks ago…" he continued.

The woman smiled a bit nervously. "Yes, well…it was nice meeting you, but we really should be going…"

Sirius nodded. "Of course. Come along, Harry," he said patronizingly, walking towards the next tank.

I glared at him for the fiftieth time that day. "I hate you," I said resolutely.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" When I didn't answer, he continued. "Well I was under the impression that _you _were the one who started it."

"Can I be the one to end it?"

"Aw, come on. You can't quit already."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. But you better watch out."

Sirius nodded solemnly. "Oh I will."

I nodded. "Good."

Sirius looked around. "Are we done here?"

"Well I don't know, I'm still feeling rather lonely and left out," I said dryly.

Sirius laughed and led the way out.

"What next?" Sirius asked as we exited the building.

"Well, to keep with the animal theme, we could go across the street to the MGM and see the lions. Or…" I looked down at my map to see what else there was, but Sirius interrupted me.

"No, no, we need to go a bar. We'll just pick up something and take it back to the hotel. Or, better yet, there was a bar in the hotel—we'll just use that."

I glanced up at him. "I'm too young, Sirius."

"_So?_"

* * *

I hiccupped. "Sir'us…I think I like this game after all," I drawled.

Sirius laughed a bit too loud. "I told you you would."

"Yeah…what's it called again?"

"Kings, Harry. But we're not really playing it right."

I scowled. "Yess we are. Look, I even rememember…rember…_know_ the rules." I began to speak in a sing song voice, "Two for you, three for me, four for whores, five for jive, six for…something… seven for heaven, eight for…something else… and…Kings!"

"Pardon?" Sirius asked—he was much too sober.

"Kings!" I repeated. "That's the name of the game! I rem…rememem….know it now!"

Sirius grunted. "Your father would be so proud. No, but…I was saying something…"

"Kings!"

"Right! We're doing it wrong."

I started to shake my head, but then everything started moving. "Whoa…"

"We're supposed to have lots and lots and lots and lots of people," Sirius told me.

"Like…all the Gryffindors?" I asked over a hiccup.

Sirius nodded, "Maybe not the younger ones though," he said seriously before bursting into laughter.

I laughed with him, thinking of little Dennis Creevy drunk.

"Maybe, maybe."

"Hey be," Sirius said.

"Baby."

"Gay be."

"Shave me."

"Pave…streets," I said.

"Pave…gardens," Sirius answered.

"Marvin gardens."

"Marvin's gay."

"Marvin's gray!" I said.

"Pardon, may."

"Mother may I?"

"Red light, green light!" Sirius said.

"Er….yellow!"

"Pink."

"Mauve."

"Puce."

"Suede."

"That's not a color," Sirius pointed out.

"We need firewhiskey," I announced, ignoring him.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, and gave me a once-over. "I dunno…I'm supposed to be responsible, right?"

"I won't tell if you don't."

Sirius scowled. "I hate making decisions when I'm drunk."

"Want me to decide?" I said, but I think I ruined my chances when I suddenly tipped over from my cross legged position on the floor.

"Oh kiddo, I think you've had enough. Maybe next time I'll listen to you when you say that you're too young," Sirius said and he reached out to take the bottle of something I could longer remember the word for. "Light weight," he muttered.

A sudden thought struck me. "Sir'us…am I _drunk_?"

Sirius glanced at me. "No, Har, you're totally sober."

I thought about this. "No…I think you're wrong."

Sirius laughed. "I was kidding. Yeah, I think you're a little sauced."

My eyebrows went up. "But S'rius, I've never been drunk before!" I said worriedly.

"That's okay. I guess that's what I'm for."

Another thought occurred to me. "_Sir'us_. You've been drunk before."

Sirius nodded, grinning. "Bloody right I have been," he said as he stood up. He wobbled a little before straightening himself out. Carrying a big glass bottle, he walked away.

"Hey!" I yelled after him, but then I realized I didn't really care if Sirius went into the bathroom. Where did that alcohol get to, though?

"S'rus!" I called.

He came out, looking a little disoriented. "What?"

"Did I win?"

"Kings?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, that was fun. But did I win?"

Sirius gave a dry laugh. "Sure, Har. You won Kings."

"Nooo. Did I _win_?"

"Win what?" he asked, sitting back down next to me.

"The _other_ game. _You know_."

Sirius stared at me. He leaned forward a little and raised his eyebrows.

I sighed. "You know, the game we were playing where we were mean? With the little kid, and the sharks…"

"Ooh. Right. No, I think I won that one."

"_Why_?" I whined.

"I think you'll get it in the morning." Sirius shook his head.

"What are we doing in the morning?"

Sirius groaned. "Lots of fun things. Why don't you…" he hiccupped. "Um. You said this is this the first time you've ever been drunk?"

I nodded excitedly, smiling. "It's real cool."

Sirius gave a little moan. "I'm going to regret this. But…you should go to bed."

"I'm thirsty, though."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not," Sirius said.

"Am too."

"Are not."

"Are too," I said, trying to match him.

"Am not." _Wait…_

I rubbed my eyes. "Why don't you go to bed?" I asked accusingly.

"Because I'm too old to go to bed," Sirius said.

"Oh. Well…I'll only go if you go."

Sirius sighed dramatically, but got into the big bed. "Okay. I'm here."

I followed him in there, and he turned off the light on the bedside table. After a few minutes, Sirius was snoring. I didn't want to go to sleep though—I felt weird. I glanced around the room, my eyes now adjusted to the darkness, and saw something lying on the floor. I slowly eased myself down to pick it up, and was surprised when I tumbled onto the floor. After I got my bearings, I grabbed the object. It was a magic marker—which aren't actually magic at all. I smiled.

* * *

_By the way, Kings is a drinking game, just in case you didn't know. I've never played, but it's pretty common. _


	11. Conversations and Whatnot

_A/N: Okay, so sorry I suck so much and took so long to write this. _

I woke to the unpleasant sound of a 15 year old boy vomiting in the bathroom. I groaned and dragged myself out of bed. I had a headache, but it wasn't anywhere near to how Harry must've been feeling since it was his first hangover. Poor kid.

"You alright, Har'?" I asked, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom.

Harry panted and wiped his mouth. "Godfather," he acknowledged coolly, staring at the toilet.

I frowned. "Hey now, what did I ever do to you?"

Harry raised his eyebrows without looking at me and flushed the toilet. "You did _this_ to me."

I smirked. "I merely suggested and supplied it. _You _drank it."

Harry shook his head and put some toothpaste on his toothbrush. "_You're_ supposed be the adult here. _You're _supposed to tell me _not_ to get drunk."

"Since when am I the adult?"

Harry rolled his eyes and stuck his toothbrush in his mouth. "Ohm ne'er dwunking agun," he declared.

"Come again?"

"_Ohm ne'er_….owd on." He spit and rinsed his mouth out before trying again. "I _said_, I'm never drinking again."

I shrugged. "That's probably a good idea. And see now, I've done my adult job and convinced you that drinking is bad. I think experience is good teaching."

Harry finally turned to look at me, and started laughing. "Blimey, I forgot about that," he said.

"What?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing," he said, still laughing.

I wasn't liking where this was going. Harry shuffled past me and out of the bathroom, and I took his place in front of the mirror. I stared at my reflection for a few minutes, and just shook my head.

"Very funny," I called out to my brat of a godson. I could hear him snicker as I began the long process of scrubbing black magic marker doodles off my face.

As we walked through Caesar's Palace, I found myself wondering what I did with all my time before Harry came to live with me. I mean, there was Azkaban, obviously, but before that, and directly after while I was in hiding. And then there was the school year where Harry was always gone.

"I can't remember what I do while you're not here," I said to him, breaking our amiable silence.

Harry looked amused. "You mean besides working?"

Well there was that. "Yeah. Like at night, or on my days off, or in the mornings."

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I hope you didn't just sit around, you know, pining after me."

I chuckled. "No, I know I did something, I just don't remember what it was."

"Must have been very dull, then."

"Well, anyhow, I'm glad you're back," I said.

Harry glanced at me. "So am I," he said quietly. "Well, I mean…not…under the, er, circumstances, but…"

I felt my shoulders sag. I'd forgotten. Again. Remus was somehow slipping in and out of my mind, but usually out. It was awful, and horrible, but I couldn't help it. Especially with Harry here.

I nodded slowly, and put my hands in my pockets.

"Sorry," Harry said after a moment. "I didn't mean to…bring it up again."

I shook my head. "No," I said softly, "no."

Harry sighed deeply. "I…I don't really miss him yet. Isn't that terrible? It's like it hasn't hit me yet."

We were coming to a bench, so I stopped and sat down. When I saw Harry do the same, I leaned back, stretching my legs out in front of me. "I don't know, kiddo. It hits me, something small, like wondering what he would think of this, or that, and then remembering, but then I forget again, and it happens all over. I feel…guilty for it. I know I shouldn't, and that it's normal or something, but I do anyway."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I do too."

I exhaled softly through my nose, and briefly reached over to squeeze Harry's shoulder. He looked over at me again, and I held his gaze.

"When's the funeral?" he asked.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "In a few days. Friday, I think."

Harry frowned. "Isn't that a little late to have a funeral?"

I shook my head. "No. He's…" I cleared my throat. "He's being cremated. There'll be a service, but it can wait longer because of that."

Harry blanched slightly, but quickly recovered. "Oh. I uh, I didn't know that."

"Yeah. Old superstitions about werewolves, you know? And you know Remus, always wanting to please people. He thought everyone would feel best about it this way. I don't know what he expected to happen…"

Harry looked down, and we were quiet for a few moments. "Er…" Harry broke the silence, "how long are we going to keep this up?"

"Keep what up?"

Harry gestured vaguely. "This. This…running away," he said hesitantly, as if I might get mad.

I sighed again. "I don't know."

After a while, Harry groaned. "I've got a headache the size of a…well, the size of Madame Maxime."

I snorted. "Yeah, I kind of thought you would. You up to eating anything yet?"

Harry gave a small smile, but shook his head.

"What?" I asked.

Harry's smile widened. "You sounded very parental just then. You've been doing that a lot lately."

"Hmph. Well. Is that a problem?"

"I guess not. It's just odd."

"Why? Because I'm the cause of the of your current ailment?"

"No. I mean, there is that, but that's not what I meant." Harry shrugged. "I guess I'm just still not quite used to it, even now. I'm not sure I'll ever be."

"You'll never be used to someone worrying about you?" I asked.

"You're worried about me?"

"Well, not at the moment, but as a whole, yes."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Am I doing something that worries you?"

"Eh. Not really. It's just part of this whole…_guardian_ thing."

"_Guardian_. I don't know when I'll get used to that, either."

"I've always been used to it."

"Always? You haven't always been my guardian," Harry pointed out.

"No, but for as long as I've known you—and I've known you since you were a fetus—I've been used to the idea of looking out for you."

Harry grinned. "It's weird thinking about you knowing me before I was born. Talking to my parents about me…deciding on a name…"

"I wanted to name you Alphred," I said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you did."

"Hmm. You know, I guess I probably shouldn't say that I've always been used to the idea of being your guardian, because that's still pretty new to me. I guess I meant I'm more used to the idea of…being around you, taking care of you, then you are of being around me—constantly."

"Well considering that I wasn't even aware of your existence until a few years ago…"

I nodded. "True."

"Have you ever thought about getting a pet?" Harry asked suddenly.

I scowled. "Why?" I asked warily.

"Well, I was wondering the other day about whether or not an animal would still know who you were when you changed into Snuffles."

"You've seriously got to stop calling me that."

Harry ignored me. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Tried to get you to stop calling me Snuffles? Plenty of times. Never stuck."

"No," Harry said, undeterred. "Have you ever been around an animal long enough to find out if it still knows who you are?"

I shrugged. "I never really thought about it, but I suppose Buckbeak still recognized me. And Hedwig. She never left to go looking for me if she showed up while I was a dog. And speaking of Hedwig—_she's_ your pet. So don't get any ideas."


	12. Just Waiting

_A/N: Sorry, again, for the delay in the update. _

* * *

"I just want to look," I reassured Sirius as I led him into the Muggle pet shop. 

"Uh huh, yeah, I'm sure," Sirius muttered, but followed me nonetheless.

The bell above the door rang cheerily as we entered the store, earning itself a wary glance from Sirius.

"It's just a bell," I said, and Sirius grunted in return.

Puppies were barking in their cages along the back wall. Sirius looked at them curiously, and we gravitated towards them.

"This is cool," I said.

Sirius nodded. "I've never been in a pet store before other than Eyelops."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You know how it was," I said, moving to take a closer look at the parakeets.

"I hate how it was," Sirius said in a voice that made me turn to look at him. His expression was as bitter as his voice sounded.

"Sirius…" I said, grinning a little to try to lighten the mood. "Forget about it."

I watched as Sirius took on a mask, and smiled. "Right. What are those?" he asked briskly, pointing to a fish tank. We moved over towards it.

"Angel fish, I think," I said.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Angel fish? They don't look very angelic to me."

I shrugged. "I'm hungry. Do we have time to get something to eat?"

"We always have time to eat. Besides, we don't actually to be anywhere at a certain time," Sirius said easily.

I looked at him. "You just went on and on about how you'd die if we missed the pirate show."

"Right, we definitely _can't_ miss that. But we can go eat at the Treasure Island, and then we're right there when it starts," Sirius said in a surprisingly logical way.

"Right then. Let's just go get a cab then."

* * *

"I can't believe we're just sitting here in the hotel room at nine o'clock. We've got hours we could kill," Sirius complained. 

"You were the one who was saying how your feet hurt," I said.

Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. "Hey, listen, I think that we're going home tomorrow."

I sighed, and crawled up onto the bed to sit across from him. "Okay."

Sirius looked at me for a few seconds, then blinked. "Well, we should probably make sure that we've done everything we needed to do here."

I nodded. A lighter subject. Good. "You got me drunk."

Sirius grinned. "Mm-hmm. Check. We went to a lot of hotels."

"Check. We went to a show."

"Check. And we also did the other stuff like we made up after that fight…"

"Right. And you got me to reveal a childhood memory," I said dramatically.

"Right. Oh, and we did that whole jet leg thing."

"Jet lag's not really something you _do_, but okay."

"Um…what else?"

"I think that's it. Was there something else you wanted to do?"

Sirius thought for a moment, and then got a weird look on his face. "Oh yeah…" he muttered.

"What?"

"You're not gonna like it…"

"What?"

"Well…on the plane…we said we'd do it later…"

'The talk.' "Damn," I said, letting my head drop to my chest. "I was hoping you'd forget."

"Yeah…" Sirius cleared his throat. "Er…but we have to do it. I mean, talk about it…not _do it_…" He cleared his throat again.

I laughed half-heartedly. "Fine. Er…well, where…where do we start?" I asked, fighting off the blush that was threatening to appear.

"Well, at the beginning, I guess. You know where babies come from, right?"

I nodded. "I took basic sex ed, Sirius."

"Right. So you know about…er…_things_?"

I know my cheeks turned red here. "Er, yeah."

"Good, good. So…sex is…a good thing…and…well, you shouldn't do it till you're at least…35…"

"Sirius."

"What?" he asked, looking affronted, "35 is a good age."

"So…let's see…how old are you? Like 34?"

Sirius cleared his throat once more. "Well. Maybe I am a virgin."

"Are you?"

"No, but…alright, you can do it at 30, but not a minute before."

I rolled my eyes. "Are you going to actually tell me something, or just make jokes?"

Sirius gave a long suffering sigh. "_Fine_. You don't like my jokes? I'm hurt, Harry, really hurt. But…okay. I'm not going to tell you when you can do…it, but…use good judgment, okay? Waiting till you're out of school would be super, and waiting till you're like…30, is an option too. A good one. And, er, when you do…have sex," Sirius tried to cover the slight shudder he had as he said that, "be…a gentleman, and…nice… Yeah, there's a reason godfathers aren't the ones to traditionally do this."

I willed myself to stop blushing as I said, "Well, you know, we could…talk about this more when that time comes. I don't plan on doing anything for awhile."

Sirius nodded vehemently. "Absolutely. But…promise me you'll come tell me first? I mean, not the very second before, but…you know."

I thought about this, and nodded. "Okay. I can do that."

Sirius nodded again. "So. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," I echoed. "What time is the flight?"

Sirius shrugged absently. "I don't know. How, uh, how are you doing, though, with all this?"

"With what we just talked about…?"

"No," Sirius smiled, "no. With…" he gestured vaguely, "with everything."

"Oh," I said, and the deep pit in my stomach came back. "I…" I paused, willing my voice not to break. I took a deep breath. "I don't know. It keeps hitting me that I won't ever…that he won't ever…"

"Yeah," Sirius said, putting many unsaid words into that one syllable.

"I mean, even the big things that I don't usually think about—like my wedding, or if I have a kid…he won't be there."

Sirius opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. He sighed. "I know. Trust me, I've thought the same thing about my self."

Now that was a thought. Sirius getting married or having a kid. It made sense, I guess, but I'd never really thought of Sirius wanting a real family. "Do you think you will ever get married?"

Sirius shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe. If the right girl came along. But hey, don't worry about it. If I do get serious with someone, I'll make sure you're okay with it every step of the way. I won't come home one day and announce that I eloped over the weekend—and you better not, either."

I gave a half-grin that faded too quickly. "I won't," I said absently. The pit in my stomach was widening and threatening to eat me alive.

Sirius was looking at me way too closely, in a fashion that made me wonder if he could read my mind. His eyes were sympathetic and soft, and that in and of itself was a little unsettling. Sirius's eyes were always dancing around, whether it was in laughter or anger, but now they were still and mournful. I looked away. I loved my godfather, but all of a sudden the hotel room felt very small and he felt very close. It was to be expected, I suppose, since we'd been in close quarters and not out of each others' sight for days, but I really needed to get out. Unfortunately, Sirius would never go for that. He'd have to come too. That just meant that the activity for the night had to be something distracting enough that would get my mind off of Remus and that night so that Sirius wouldn't ask any questions. I knew he was considering it. In fact, he was opening his mouth now.

"Hey!" I cut him off before he even started. "I know what we haven't done yet."

"What?"

"Gambling! It's _Vegas_, Sirius, one of the few spots on this continent where you can play the slots legally. We should go to a casino."

Sirius's eyes narrowed. He probably knew something was up that I didn't want to talk about. "Well, isn't that still a little illegal for you?"

"So was the drinking."

"Yeah, but we could caught if you were gambling. There are all sorts of cameras."

"Well, okay, but that doesn't mean you can't. You should go try to win us some money."

"Right, because you're so lacking in that area. I think you may have more money in your name than I do."

I forced a smile. "That's so not the point. True, but not the point."

Sirius gave me an unnerving look, through which I'm sure he was scouring my soul or something. I held his gaze though, and apparently passed whatever test he was giving, because he gave in. "Alright. I think there's a casino downstairs. Do you want to come with me, or…?"

I didn't. But if I stayed in the room, Sirius would definitely be suspicious and force me to talk later. I'd rather not. "Yeah, definitely. I'll stand by from a relatively safe distance and walk around when the guards start to look at me funny."

"Alright, fine. Let's go," he said.

I followed him out of the room and down to the casino area. There were restaurants and bars scattered about, and a randomly placed sofa and recliner.

"I won't take long. You can get something to eat if you're hungry," Sirius said. I nodded, and he walked up to one of the machines. I spent a few minutes from the couch watching him try to figure out what to do, and then let my mind wander. I kept remembering everything…from the day I met Remus on the train to the night at the department of mysteries, it was all coming back. It was all coming back, and it was all killing me. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to be alone, and I wanted to throw up, and I wanted Remus back. Now. Remus was the only one I'd ever see effectively calm Sirius down when he was in one of his angry moods—hell, he'd talked Sirius out of murder. For me. Remus had taught me the patronus charm, which had saved my life on more than one occasion. He had spent hours in class, patiently teaching things that I probably took for granted at the time. He'd caught me with the Marauder's Map back when he'd still thought Sirius was a killer, and had cared enough to confiscate it from me.

Sirius must have won something, because I heard the sounds of quarters rushing out of the machine and his laughter. I glanced up and gave him the thumbs up sign, but something on my face must've given me away. A worried look came over him, and collecting his winnings, he came over to me. He sat down next to me, and I looked at the floor. I felt incredibly…sad. It was like I had just swallowed a ton of lead, and if I moved, I would fall over. Or cry.

Sirius's hand came to settle over my kneecap, and we sat there like that for a while. I knew that he must be dealing with his own vat of liquid metal, but I was selfishly grateful that he was good enough at repressing it that he could comfort me.

After some time—it could've been a few minutes, or an hour—I took a deep breath. "I'm tired," I said, and I meant it with every fiber of my being. Sleep was good. You didn't hurt in sleep.

Sirius stood, and reached down a hand to help me up to a standing position. We made our way back upstairs to the room, quarters jingling in Sirius's pockets. Neither of us said a word as Sirius slid the keycard into the door, or as I numbly slid under the covers of the bed. Sirius moved over to where I was laying, and untucked the covers at the end. Pulling them up and over my ankles, he took a loose hold of my leg and gently slid off my trainer. He repeated this with the other leg before pulling the blanket back down over my feet and taking off his own shoes and jeans. Neatly folding his pants and setting them on the dresser, he turned out the light and climbed in the other side of the bed. I automatically rolled towards him and he held out an arm. I vaguely registered a slight flush of embarrassment come over me as I allowed him to hold my very 16 year old self like a little child.

"You don't have to say anything," Sirius said quietly. "But when you're ready, I'll be here, just waiting."

* * *

_A/N: Byyy the way, I have to reccomend a book. It's _Nightlife_ by Rob Thurman. It's about Cal, a guy whose father was literally a monster, and whose mother was a gypsy, and whose brother is the only one who has ever been there for him. Add some sarcasm, a vampire, a troll, Darkling, the Auphe, and a puck, and you've got yourself a must-read novel. _


	13. Surviving

I watched from the doorway as Harry tried his best to tie a Windsor knot. I could tell his fingers were stiff and pretty much worthless in the tie tying area, so I went over to help him. I saw him straighten his shoulders and set his jaw when he noticed me.

"Can I help?" I asked.

Harry dropped his hands and lifted his chin a little so I could finish tying.

"I remember the first time I had to tie one of these," I said absently.

Harry lifted his eyebrows half-heartedly. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I guess I was…nine, maybe, and my parents had decided that it was time for me to start making public appearances at their parties and things. You know, just to promote the family image. So they get an invitation for a Muggle-themed party, which they almost didn't go to because they found the idea rather repulsing, but it was given by someone important, so we went. Anyway, I had to wear a tie, and spent several of the most frustrating hours of my life trying to figure out how to do it. Turns out there a was a spell for it, but my father didn't share it with me until my dear mum noticed what a wreck my clothes were."

"Hmm," Harry said, trying to sound interested, but I could tell that I hadn't succeeded in distracting him.

I straightened his tie a little, and then glanced around the room, trying to find something else that needed to be done. Coming up empty, I sighed. "Right then…are you ready to go?"

Harry visibly stiffened. "I've never been to a funeral before."

I cleared my throat. "Neither have I."

Harry looked at me. "But what about…oh. Right. I guess I had just thought…"

I nodded. "Well, I was rather indisposed at the time of your parents' funeral, and I wouldn't have been…welcome, at any of the funerals for my family members."

Harry nodded vaguely, then turned and looked me in the eye. He swallowed nervously. "Okay. I'm ready."

But was I? I'd done a pretty good job, I thought, of controlling myself and staying calm, but on the inside, I was a mess. Every few seconds, it seemed, I was hit by a stray thought or memory of Remus, followed by a swift blow to the stomach when I realized I would never get another one of those. My last memory of my best friend would be that of his funeral, and that devastated me. I clung to Harry emotionally, blatantly using him as a distraction, and for the effortless comfort that his presence gave me. I was continually grateful for the stroke of luck that we were able to stay together and that we _worked_. I had been afraid that once I finally did get Harry living with me, we would clash all the time, and that he wouldn't like me, but that didn't seem to be the case, thankfully. Remus had helped a lot in that. He had always been there to calm me down when Harry did something stupid, or to cuff me if I'd done something stupid. He'd always been like that. Always the mediator for our group of friends. Always the sane one.

"Alright," I said, deciding to be ready too. If Harry could be, then I could be too.

* * *

My heart was pounding, my throat was closing in on itself, and my eyes were burning. I think the walk into the little church was the hardest part. We weren't the first ones there—in fact, the place was already pretty full when we arrived—and as soon as we opened the door, all eyes were on us. I could hear the whispers, and although I knew we would be expected to sit in the front, I wanted to just slide into the back. 

I focused on the flowers sitting next to Remus's urn and the picture of him, trying to block the other items from my mind. The flowers were big and gaudy, but I didn't really care. They were a good focal point.

The service was really a memorial rather than a funeral, so there would be no viewing of the body. I'd always hated the idea of doing that, but right now, I longed to see him, just one more time. The thought that the cremator had been the last one to see Remus's body horrified me, and even more so, the picture of Remus burning into the neat pile of ashes that were currently in the urn that, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the flowers, I couldn't take my eyes off of. That was all that was left of Remus.

I knew that Harry must have been hurting too, but I really didn't have the strength to try to comfort him. I wasn't looking at him, but he seemed to be fine enough. If he had been sobbing or something, then maybe I would have been able to pull myself out of my own sorrow and take some of his away, but for now, my sorrow quota was pretty much overflowing. Not quite, because I wasn't crying—I don't think—but that was the most I could control.

A wizard in long black robes who was probably a friend of mine came up to the pulpit and began to speak. He thanked us for coming, and apologized for the awful circumstances. That seemed rather insignificant to me—trying to be polite at a funeral. Who gave a damn?

The man started talking about Remus, and how he was valued in our community, and all sorts of other rubbish that he didn't mean, and I stopped listening. I was still staring at the urn, and riding out the waves of grief that were hitting me. I was stuck in the cycle of grief, and it kept repeating itself. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. I didn't know that you could go through all of those in a matter of minutes, but I was. I stopped believing that this urn was anything more than an urn, and that Remus was really late to this function, whatever it was. He would be here soon.

Then he never showed up, and I became angry at him. Angry at him for being late, for not coming, for leaving me here all alone. For dying.

Then I began to think that maybe, maybe there was some kind of spell that I could attempt that would let me switch places with him. It was, after all, righter for him to be alive than it was for me. Of course, there was Harry… He probably needed me a little. But maybe I needed Remus a little. Or a lot. Or all the time. Or right now.

Then, thinking about that, the depression kicked in again, and I swear, I could've died right then and not have cared. I think I probably started crying a little right about then.

And then…Remus was dead. I knew that. There was nothing I could do. But then an irrational voice would scream in my head, 'No he's not! Remus isn't dead, he's just late!' and it would start all over again.

Sometime during the third or fourth speaker, and my fifth round at the anger stage, Harry reached over and took my hand. I guess, although I was caught up in my own world of sorrow, Harry had enough strength left over to help me. Or maybe he was just being Harry. He let me squeeze his hand, and he squeezed back. We were probably bruising each other, but we were surviving.

* * *

Yeah, so, that was the last chapter. Finis. Voila. Hope you enjoyed! 


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